Blood To Blood Ties
by MelodyAnne
Summary: I'm a spy, remember? It doesn't matter if I'm okay." Faced with a shocking discovery and forced to question the loyalty of those closest, Syd finds that the Covenant is still controlling the game.[COMPLETE]
1. A New Alliance

Chapter 1: A New Alliance

Disclaimer: Alias isn't mine. The only characters that are mine I can't mention yet.

A/N: I promise the style will get a little less…Poe-ish, later on, but it's just appropriate for Jack, ya know? I didn't intentionally write the stuff from Jack's POV to sound like Poe wrote it, but when I reread it I realized it was startlingly appropriate!

* * *

Jack never really got over his obsession with Rambaldi that drove his best friend from the CIA to the other side, he just pushed it aside, swept it under the rug. _He_ had seen a Rambaldi prophecy no other living soul had laid eyes upon. It had not only revealed the traitorous status of his beloved wife, but had decreed that the child she had, at the time, carried in her womb was the sole source of an ultimate power, when matched with another prophesied one. For years, this Great One had remained only a picture to him, a grainy sketch that had existed only in his memory. Then Julian Sark had attracted the attention of the CIA.

The documents of the prophecy had been destroyed, of course. She was, after all, his only child, and she must be protected from the rest until the prophecy was fulfilled, at any cost. He didn't wish to harm his own flesh and blood, only do his part to see the prophecy come to life.

He'd begun contacting Sark immediately, never face-to-face, always by way of nameless proxies. Little by little, Jack had begun to believe he controlled the Great One, that he could, with little effort of risk, fully control his actions.

The deal had been made long before the Covenant had come into the picture. Jack, about whom Sark knew truthfully nothing, would deliver the woman all close followers of Rambaldi--himself excluded, of course, having that secret knowledge of a lost prophecy--believed to be the Chosen One. He would tell Sark that Sydney's _legacy_ was to be the wielder of "ultimate power unto utter desolation," not Sydney herself, and that, unbeknownst to the CIA--or anyone for that matter--there was a final page missing from _the_ Prophecy, citing Sark to be the one who must befriend himself to Sydney and create a child. That their child alone would fulfill Rambaldi's prophecy.

Most of which was true, or had origin's in the truth. Sydney may have been the real Chosen One, but how to say that without revealing too much of the hidden prophecy? The union of Jack's only daughter and the one Rambaldi called the Great One would produce a powerful child, whose destiny would be great.

The Covenant's arrival, however, threw a considerable wrench in Jack's foolproof plan. They had managed to kidnap Sydney, and convince even Jack that she was dead, because Sark had gone along with their plan. Sark had not waited to have her given to him, he'd simply taken her. And that meant Jack had no control over or chance to stop--especially after imprisonment for collating with Irina Derevko--the horrible torture she underwent at the hands of the Covenant.

Jack had been infuriated be what they'd done to her, and the inhuman way in which they'd taken what they needed, but the prospect of fulfilling the prophecy alone kept him in touch with Sark after Sydney's return.

When Sydney and Dixon and the rest had managed to destroy Sark's lab, despite his own attempts to sabotage the mission, he'd been sure all hope of ever fulfilling the prophecy had been lost forever.

* * *

FOUR YEARS LATER

"The Covenant," Dixon said pointedly. "Seems to have gotten their hands on an important Rambaldi artifact." He looked around at the people in the conference room. Sydney, Vaughn, Weiss, Marshal, Jack. Few others would be trusted with this intel.

"But we brought down the Covenant," Sydney protested warily.

"We did," Dixon said. "But there was still a small sector that remained, despite our best efforts. At the time, this sector consisted of only about five people, Sark included. For a long time, we lost track of them, and have only recently managed to catch up with them again. Under a new name--they're operating under the name the Calling now--they've gained momentum. The Calling currently consists of at least over a hundred agents and management."

"Do we know what that name refers to?" Jack asked.

"Rambaldi, of course," Dixon muttered. "They seem to believe they possess a phenomenal Rambaldi artifact, but the security on their headquarters is amazing. Lots of solid concrete walls, even a thermal layer that maintains body temperature around the clock so that we can't trace movement within the building, or tell exactly how many agents are there at any given time. We can't even get a read on their wiring system from our birds."

"If security is that tight, how do we even know the have an artifact?" Weiss asked.

"Well, um see," Marshal spoke up. "We've traced Mr. Sark quite effectively, monitored his phone calls, um, et cetra. All of his calls have been encrypted and behind the type of security I've never seen before--and hey, that's sayin' something--uh, right…We were able to decrypt some recurring words in his conversations. _Rambaldi_, _prophecy_, and _Chosen One_ are a few of the words that stand out.

"Thank you, Marshal," Dixon said, effectively silencing him before he could continue on to pointless rambling. "A tech team managed to put a tracer on one of the agents confirmed to be a caretaker of the artifact. Because of that, we have a sketchy layout of the building and a probable location of the artifact."

Two identical files slid across the table to rest in front of Sydney and Vaughn.

"Let me guess," Vaughn said. "You want us to steal the artifact."

"And acquire any intel you can regarding it," Dixon added. "Communications devices would be futile, so you'll be going in deaf, and partially blind," he warned.

"The, uh, concrete walls pretty much mean you'd have to be in an open space to use any equipment we have," Marshal assured. "And then you could just be, like, I'm over here…"

Sydney couldn't help but grin. Marshal would never change, even with a two-year-old keeping him awake at all hours.

"You leave tonight," Dixon said, not noticing the speculative look on Jack's face that was just tinged with worry.

* * *

Hehe! I just love this story…It just seems so right for Jack to be kinda evil…yet in his own twisted way still express concern for his baby girl. Now, what could they possibly find waiting for them in the Calling HQ?


	2. It Could Always Be Worse

Chapter 2: It Could Always Be Worse

Disclaimer: Nope, Alias isn't mine.

A/N: Hope ya'll are enjoying this!

* * *

"What could they possibly have now?" Sydney wondered aloud.

Alone on a CIA jet, they should have been trying to catch a few hours sleep, but a mutual case of field related insomnia plagued them instead.

"Whatever it is, it can't be worse than…" Vaughn began.

"Don't even say that," Sydney cut in. "We both honestly thought Nadia was harmless, and now she and Sloane are God knows where doing heaven only knows what. Probably hundreds of people died trying to put together the Telling. I got arrested by the FBI because of the Prophecy." Sydney ticked off points on her fingers. "Trust me, this could _always_ be worse."

Vaughn looked at her for a moment, then nodded.

"Don't forget the cube," he said, a crooked grin on his face.

Sydney grinned back, even though it was far from funny. It had taken a lot of work, loud arguments, and passionate nights, but they were finally back on a plane where they could laugh together at the satirically ironic as well as the funny.

* * *

Less than thirty seconds, and already it was clear a guard was posted at every corner in the dark, gloomy, concrete walled corridor. At least, there was at every corner Sydney and Vaughn turned.

The worst part was, they couldn't simply plug the sons-of-bitches full of holes, because gunfire would bring a probable hundred armed attackers upon them in seconds.

From the tentative map they'd memorized, there were only five more corners to round before coming to the passageway where the room, estimated to hold the artifact and be roughly eight feet across, was tucked, deep inside the compound.

Of course, if they managed to sneak up behind the guards, disposing of them was simple. A few moments of proper pressure in the right spot of his throat, and he was out. Sydney and Vaughn's luck, as they moved with absolute stealth, held out until they were nearly at the door of the room.

They froze when the heavy steel door swung open, and a heavily armed man walked out. As he moved to lock the door, he saw Sydney and Vaughn. He reached for the gun holstered as his hip, but Sydney and Vaughn had theirs already drawn. One shot from Sydney and the guard fell.

Rushing forward and tugging at the heavy door, Sydney hissed unnecessarily, "This is the room!"

With Vaughn's help, the door swung fully open and they rushed in, anxious to escape before reinforcements responded to the gunshot. Sydney paused just inside the door to look around. The room was bare but for a metal cot with a thin mattress, with a little girl huddled on the cot with a grilled cheese sandwich and a disposable cup of some drink on a plastic tray.

"He said I could eat first," the little girl, who couldn't have been more than three, cried in horror. "He promised!"

Memories spun before Sydney's mind's eye. Pictures hanging around her childhood home, before her mother's disappearance. A four-year-old Sydney in pigtails. A three-year-old kneeling by the Christmas tree in pajamas, hair wild. A school picture. And then the child in front of her came back into focus.

They could easily have been the same child.

"Sydney?" Vaughn hissed anxiously. "Are you okay? We have to get out of here."

"She's the artifact," Sydney murmured.

"Do we take her, then?" he muttered back.

Sydney manufactured a smile and tucked away her gun. If she didn't know better, she would have thought the child was deliberately ignoring the firearm.

"Come here, sweetie, " she said gently. "You need to come with us."

The little girl shrank away and looked confused by Sydney's tone.

"What are you?" she asked.

"What am I?"

"What are you going to make me do?"

"Uh…" Sydney was thoroughly confused. "We're going to keep you safe, sweetie."

"He said I could eat first." The little girl's voice wavered only slightly.

Sydney looked to Vaughn, who only shrugged. Reluctantly, Sydney scooped up the child, who kicked and fought like a little hellion.

"Let's go," she said to Vaughn, then grunted as her little captive's foot connected solidly.

"Got her?" Vaughn asked, closing the metal door behind them and starting off at a jog.

"Yes," Sydney growled through gritted teeth as she struggled to keep hold of the child but not to hurt her. She picked up her pace as much as she could.

"They've got the child!" a voice at the far end of the corridor yelled.

"Go!" Vaughn said quickly. "Get her out. I'll hold them off!"

The little girl stilled when the sound of gunfire erupted behind them. She knew only that the sound meant someone was unhappy, and when people were unhappy, people got hurt.

All Sydney knew was that the terrified child was no longer digging nails and teeth and feet and fists into any part of her she could reach.

After a brisk run through the woods--and the Calling had thought them a protective barrier--Sydney ducked into the hiding spot she and Vaughn had agreed on earlier. With no comms, they'd agreed to meet up in a particularly close stand of trees, the effect of which was a space unseen by anyone outside the stand.

It was several minutes before she realized the little girl was looking around, a mixture of fear and wonder on her face.

"What's wrong?" Sydney asked, trying not to let her worry for Vaughn slip into her voice.

"The trees are real," she whispered. "I'm not supposed to be out here."

Sydney was thoroughly confused, but thought to let it go for later inspection.

"What's your name, sweetie?" she asked calmly.

"Kelly."

"Do you know your last name, Kelly?"

"I don't gots one." Kelly was becoming more comfortable with her new captor by the second. She didn't threaten her like the others did. "I asked one of the Calling once, and he said they only gave me Kelly so I would respond to something other than 'hey kid'," she said proudly.

"The Calling?" What, Sydney wondered, would a three-year-old possibly know about the Calling?

"Yep."

Kelly didn't appear to be very afraid of the members of the Calling, and Sydney didn't much care to instill that fear in her just then. She worded her questions carefully.

"How long did you stay with those people?"

Kelly looked surprised.

"Forever," she said. "They think I don't hear them, but I do. I'm the Chosen One," she declared. "That sounds important, huh?"

"Yes," Sydney mumbled, confusion clouding her ability to converse with the child. "It sounds very important."

* * *

Ah, yes, that _does_ sound important, doesn't it? Now, _who_ would give them an idea like that?


	3. Like A Duck To Water

Chapter 3: Like a Duck to Water

Disclaimer: Alias isn't mine. I don't claim it. The characters aren't mine, either. They never will be.

A/N: I like the title of this chapter…I know it's lame, but I think it's cute…

* * *

Vaughn ducked into the hiding spot, exhausted, only to be embraced fiercely by Sydney.

"I was so worried," she breathed into his ear.

"Who is he, Sydney?"

Sydney jumped, having momentarily forgotten the girl--who'd talked endlessly for the last half hour--was there.

"Kelly, this is Michael Vaughn," She said, barely keeping frustration from making her voice harsh. She could barely think anymore. A child of three shouldn't have such extraordinary verbal skills, should she?

* * *

Sydney left Kelly with Vaughn in the hotel room that had been reserved for them under an alias while she found the secure line. Vaughn protested vehemently--even desperately--to being left to baby-sit, but Sydney had yet to have an opportunity to fill him in on the information she'd gotten from Kelly, lest she render it of importance in the little girl's eyes. He couldn't report the full intel they'd acquired.

The phone that had been secured solely for Sydney and Vaughn to report was disguised as a pay phone whose wires had been cut. Sydney entered a special code on the keypad, and the handset--actually a cleverly disguised cell phone--connected directly to Dixon.

"Reporting," Sydney said quickly when Dixon answered.

"Were you successful? Where's Vaughn?" Dixon asked just as quickly.

"We were. Vaughn is…with the artifact."

"Do you know what it is?"

"Dixon…you didn't send us for an object. The Rambaldi artifact the Calling had was a child."

"A _child_!"

"They believe she's the Chosen One."

"Is she okay? Was she being tortured, abused? Were they training her?" The questions came faster than Dixon could ask them or Sydney could answer them.

"From a physical standpoint, she seems perfectly healthy. And damn strong," Sydney added. "I would place her to be about three. She doesn't seem to remember ever being with anyone other than the Calling--whom she called by name."

"Get her back her as soon as possible. Follow the protocol outlined in your mission data details will be tweaked to accommodate your traveling with the child without a hitch," Dixon promised.

Sydney entered another code, and the line disconnected. Blending effortlessly into the crowds swarming all around her, she made her way back to the hotel.

"We stick to protocol," she told Vaughn as soon as the door shut behind her.

"What's protocol?" Kelly asked.

"How old are you, Kelly?" Sydney asked instead of answering.

"I don't know. What's protocol?"

"A plan," Sydney said shortly, dropping onto the edge of one of the double beds beside Vaughn. She almost laughed at his frazzled look.

A dozen men with guns, he could handle. A little girl was beyond him.

"Did you two have fun while I was gone?" Sydney asked, wondering why Vaughn hadn't just sat the girl down in front of the TV. That would surely entertain her for a while.

Vaughn opened his mouth to answer, but was beaten to it.

"Fun isn't what we're here for," Kelly said solemnly, as if she'd heard it a million times. Who knew, may be she had.

"Here." Sydney stood and grabbed the remote control off of the TV, then perched on the other bed by Kelly. She flipped channels until she found a children's station. "Watch this while me and Vaughn talk, okay?"

Kelly watched the television warily while puppets danced and giggled.

"Okay," she said, as if she was unsure of the intelligence of such an endeavor.

Sydney moved back over to join Vaughn, who gave her a murderous look.

"I cannot deal with little kids," he muttered. "I don't know what to do with them."

Sydney grinned, then grew serious.

"We'll figure out how to entertain her later. Vaughn, she told me the Calling--she called them that--thinks _she's_ the Chosen One."

Vaughn shook his head.

"She's just a little girl. She probably heard something wrong…"

"I don't think so. She also has no memory of living with anyone else," Sydney added.

"What does this do?" Kelly asked, picking up the remote.

"It changes the channel," Sydney replied.

Kelly was giving the TV a look of complete disgust, not unlike the kind of look a ten-year-old might give the preschool program that was on.

"Can I?"

"What?"

"Change the channel."

Sydney shrugged.

"Yeah, sure."

Stretching out on the bed, Kelly studied the remote a second, then began flipping channels.

"She could have been brainwashed, "Vaughn suggested softly. "Or she could have been kidnapped as a baby."

"Vaughn, I think the Calling believed her to be the Chosen One from birth. Look at her. What little girl that had once known a loving mother would flinch at a gentle voice? It's like she's heard rough, mean voices all her life."

Vaughn considered it a moment.

"Last time I visited my mother's place, her neighbor had a four-year-old boy. He doesn't talk nearly as well as she does," Vaughn admitted.

"So may be they're trying to train her, to create a genius out of Rambaldi's prophecy," Sydney mused. "Think. If they've had her since she was just a baby, they could have given her nothing but educational opportunities." She glanced at Kelly, who was still flipping channels. "Did you see the look she gave the kids show I left on? I was in elementary school before I developed that attitude toward _Barney_," she commented.

Vaughn just shook his head again.

"Let's just get her back to Langley," he said. "Hopefully, we have someone trained to deal with traumatized children on the payroll."

* * *

There were, in fact, three psychiatrists on the CIA's payroll that had degrees in child psychology. All three were waiting when Vaughn and Sydney snuck in the back door, Kelly between them. They couldn't afford to advertise that fact that they had her.

"What's this place? Who's she? What does he do? Can I play on a computer?" Kelly chattered, tugging first on Sydney's hand, then on Vaughn's, then back again.

Sydney and Vaughn were relieved on one level to relinquish Kelly to the waiting psychiatrists, but there was just something endearing about the little girl that made one wish she could stay.

However, the sudden end of incessant chatter allowed questions to arise that Sydney had happily avoided earlier.

"She almost looks like you, Agent Bristow," a young agent remarked. He hadn't been around long enough to have been introduced to Rambaldi, obviously. Sydney only smiled warily.

They were ushered, along with Dixon's other most trusted agents, into a conference room for a lengthy debrief.

"Kelly heard someone within the Calling say that she was the Chosen One," Sydney asserted vehemently. "And I believe her. You can't help but see that she has extraordinary perception skills if you spend any time with her."

"But it doesn't make sense," Dixon argued. "The child is too young to resemble the image in the Prophecy. What makes them think she'd that person?"

"We have to believe they have a manuscript we don't," Vaughn said. "Something that makes them believe Kelly is the Chosen One."

Where did she come from?" Jack contributed helpfully. "The child didn't just appear. She has parents, birth records."

"Doctors will do a thorough physical exam," Dixon promised. Tests will be run. Everything possible will be done to find Kelly's family."

"Where will she stay?" Sydney asked suddenly. "I realize she can't leave this facility, but the cells we have available aren't equipped for a small child alone."

Dixon looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Actually, that had occurred to me. We also don't know the girl's background, or even her mental state at this point. Would you say Kelly has taken to you, Agent Bristow?" Dixon asked suddenly.

Vaughn chuckled before Sydney could answer.

"Like a duck to water," he supplied.

Sydney nodded hesitantly in agreement.

"Would you consider staying with her?"

"Me? Dixon, look, you should probably find someone with kids…" Sydney protested.

"Sydney, please, as a favor," Dixon pleaded. "We don't know anything about this child except that she's been held by the Calling. What we do know is that, in the course of the past few hours, you managed to form a bond of some kind with her. You're right; our cells aren't equipped for children. She'll need someone to stay with her."

Sydney's resolve visibly faltered.

"Shit," she muttered. "I'll do it."

"Great." Dixon grinned, as if he'd known all along she couldn't refuse. "Now, the psychiatrists should have finished a preliminary evaluation by now. Sydney, Vaughn, you'll want to hear the report, I expect?"

* * *

Hehehe…These two really need to get out more, huh? Really…a super-genius three-year-old should be no challenge for super spies, right?


	4. Instability Imposed of Stability

Chapter 4: Instability Imposed of Stability

Disclaimer: Alias is a possession of ABC and JJ Abrams, not me.

* * *

"She's amazing."

The woman, having been introduced as Doctor Elisa Adams, paused to look through the one-way mirror into the room where another woman was still talking to Kelly.

"Her verbal skills are on a level with your average ten-year-old," Dr. Adams continued after a moment. "But concepts common to even babies seem foreign to her. She understands games, but refuses to play them. She says she's not allowed to pretend, and seems to think this whole this is a test of some sort." The woman shook her head, and the thick dark tresses she had restrained with a clip at the nape of her neck came loose to frame her face. "So far, neither I nor my colleagues know how to proceed with her."

"Would you hazard a guess as to whether she's stable or not?" Dixon asked.

"She's very stable. I would support the theory that she's never known any other environment that of a captive," Adams commented.

"It's obvious these people messed with her head," Vaughn said. "What are the odds of undoing whatever damage they've done?"

"Favorable. She's just a little girl, very impressionable, despite, most likely, attempts to the contrary."

"What can we do to begin the process of fixing her damaged ideals?" Sydney asked. She couldn't held it; if she was going to be thrown in with the girl, the least she could do was make herself useful.

"Treat her as a normal child. She'll adjust to that."

"I know nothing about kids," Sydney admitted. "But I've been assigned to stay with her tonight. And I'm thoroughly confused. Do I treat her like a ten-year-old, a I believe you referred to her, or as a three-year-old?"

"Talk to her in whatever way she responds best," Dr. Adams suggested. "Go with the flow. She's quite a bit ahead of her peers, but we still have to learn what she's capable of."

Dixon flipped a switch, and they could hear what Kelly and the other woman were saying. It was all trivial stuff, and probably would continue to be for a while. The first thing Sydney noticed was that Kelly's answers were painfully short and to the point.

"She can sense the clinical atmosphere," Sydney muttered, she herself being uncommonly familiar with such atmospheres.

Dr. Adams nodded.

"We tried to get her to play earlier. She wouldn't but she was somewhat relaxed. As soon as we tried to question her, though, her responses became clipped," Adams murmured.

"They've trained her to respond that way," Vaughn realized. "They had no time for a little girl's babble."

"That's awful," Sydney muttered.

Dixon flipped the switch again, and turned to leave.

"Agent Bristow…" Adams hesitated.

"Yes?" Sydney said.

"Watch her carefully. I say Kelly is stable because she's never known anything other than what her captors provided her. But that could go both ways. In her mind, she may see it that we kidnapped her from her home."

Sydney froze.

"So you're saying that she could crack because she was taken out of a hostile environment," Sydney said slowly.

Adams nodded.

"If that was all she ever knew."

Dixon ushered Sydney out and sent her home to pack what she'd need for the night before she could panic and refuse to stay with Kelly.

* * *

The cell was still dank and cold. A portable TV had been set on a crate in one corner, a mat and blankets put on the two cots, and a blue bouncy ball sat in one corner, but the cell was still befitting only of a prisoner.

Sydney laid the coloring book and small box of crayons she'd picked up on one cot and set her small overnight bag on the other. Kelly most likely wouldn't recognize the cartoon characters in the coloring books, but it would keep her busy.

As she was leaving--the locks on the door hadn't been activated--a low-level agent who'd been given the unglorified position of gopher was taking in a stack of two or three videotapes. She couldn't tell what they were, but the bright, happy colors screamed children's films. Sydney wondered briefly where they had unearthed the tapes from, but decided she didn't really care.

Vaughn, having had a fit of conscience over helping to procure Sydney for Kelly's chaperone, met her at the end of the hall.

"Syd, uh, if you want…I mean, Kelly knows me too, so, if you'd rather not stay with her alone, I could…" He trailed off when Sydney held up a hand.

"Thanks," she said with a grin. "But you don't have to. I left her with you in the hotel--even if I had a good reason for it--so I'll stay with her now without complaint."

"You sure?" Vaughn offered, relieved that he had done his good deed and been let off the hook. "Really, if you want me to…"

"Vaughn. Shut up before I change my mind." She patted him on the shoulder and started to walk away.

Vaughn opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and snapped his mouth closed, giving an effective imitation of a fish.

"Hey," he said finally, rushing to catch up. "If you need me, call, okay?"

Sydney grinned.

"Okay," she drawled.

Vaughn shook his head. He would just have to expect a phone call at two AM ordering him to get his ass down there before Sydney strangled the adorable little girl.

* * *

Their night had started off disastrously enough, although the move had been entirely placid and unthinking.

There were, in all, twenty agents whose ongoing assignment was to act as guards for any prisoners kept in the CIA's cells. Those guards, as part of their uniform, wore unconcealed weapons. The single guard that had been assigned to see to Sydney and Kelly had been thoughtful enough, when they arrived in the surveillance room to question whether the cameras in the cell they were inhabiting would be running, to draw his gun and lay it down on the table, lest it scare Kelly.

The instant Kelly had laid eyes on the drawn gun, her eyes had gone wild and she'd frozen to her spot. Her whole little body was shaking after a few moments, and her eyes darted back and forth between Sydney and the guard, waiting for an order to be snapped in her direction.

Sydney didn't notice for several minutes. She was busy arguing with the guard about the necessity of cameras.

"Look, the order came from Dixon himself," the burly guy finally said. "Talk to him, not me." He looked past Sydney. "Hey, what's wrong with the kid?"

Sydney spun quickly, and by following Kelly's darting gaze soon identified the gun as the source of the child's distress. She wasn't sure, but most three-year-olds would probably at most be only slightly wary of a gun, and only until curiosity got the better of them.

"Kelly," Sydney said softly, squatting down to be at eye level with Kelly. Her voice contrasted so greatly with what Kelly expected that the child flinched. "Are you okay? Nobody is going to use the gun to hurt you here."

"What did I do wrong?" Kelly asked, her voice trembling, and not seeming to believe what Sydney said.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Sydney promised. "You don't have to be scared of anyone when you're with me. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Kelly still remained rooted to the ground and seemingly unreceptive to human contact. Regardless of that, Sydney stood and took Kelly's firmly by the hand, starting, with a gentle tug, out of the room and away form the object of Kelly's extreme distrust.

Kelly's eyes were still wide and distrustful when Sydney led her into the cell, and for the first time, she looked to Sydney like the little girl--baby, really--that she was. It was as if terror stripped away all the misleading facades the Calling had forced on her, and left only a scared baby who had no idea who she was. That lack of self had to be terrifying, even to a child.

Sydney longed, for some inexplicable reason, to just gather Kelly into her arms and hold her tight, but she held back out of a fear that too much kindness might do just what the psychiatrist had warned, break the little girl that was unaccustomed to such gestures.

Instead, Sydney pulled the stack of videos off the top of the little TV. _Alice in Wonderland_, _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_, and _The Wizard of Oz _stared her in the face.

"You want to watch a movie?" Sydney asked, sitting on the edge of a cot with the tapes in her lap.

Kelly nodded timidly.

"Well, come pick one." Sydney made no attempt to tip the tapes where Kelly could see them without coming closer.

After several moments of hesitation, Kelly clambered up onto the cot beside Sydney to look at the tapes.

"That one," she finally said quietly, pointing at the fantastic cover of _Alice in Wonderland_.

Sydney rose and placed the tape in the VCR, then hit PLAY. She was delighted when Kelly became caught up in the imaginary world of Wonderland. Glancing up furtively from the paper back novel she's settled on her own cot to read, she couldn't suppress a smile when Kelly silently moved to sit on the floor to see the picture on the small screen better.

Kelly fell asleep some hours later, still on the hard cement floor and halfway through _The Wizard of Oz_. Sydney debated leaving her there, but decided almost immediately that wouldn't be right. Kelly was limp in her arms when she gathered her up and placed her on the cot. Sydney gently tugged off the tennis shoes the CIA had provided for Kelly along with a white T-shirt and blue shorts. Then she pulled the blanket up and tucked it around her before she dimmed the lights to where there was just enough light left to see by.

Sydney climbed into her own bed soon after. With any luck, she might sleep through the night and still be able to function the next day despite her overnight charge.

* * *

Isn't that just the cutest image? This defensive little girl, so trusting in sleep. Okay, may be that's not an effective phrase, but still. It's adorable. You know it is. Now review. Review for the cute little girl, I command you! Lol…Review, please? 


	5. Impossible

Chapter 5: Impossible

Disclaimer: Alias isn't, nor has it ever been, mine.

* * *

"Sydney Bristow," Sark said decisively. "And Michael Vaughn."

He ordered the frantic agent to shut of the monitor, that he didn't need to see it again to know who they were.

Sark, as the founder of the Calling, had been summoned as soon as they'd determined that the child had been taken beyond their reach. He had promptly abandoned the business he was attending to in the US to return to their headquarters in a remote region of Russia.

"CIA agents," Sark informed the impromptu assembly. "They're most likely holding her in a facility in LA."

"CIA?" one of the higher-ranking operatives spoke up. "They will make it nearly impossible to retrieve the girl."

"Yes," Sark agreed, a part of him looking forward to going up against the infamous Sydney Bristow again. "Nearly."

* * *

They were not supposed to have the child. Kelly, they called her. What kind of a name was that for one prophesied by Rambaldi?

However, the prophecy had specified that the child of the Chosen One and the Great One must be kept away from both of her parents if she was ever to possess the great power Rambaldi foresaw. Already, he feared, the child had spent too much time with her mother, and certainly too long with her father. Something had to be done. And, of course, it had to be done before the medical testing began. She was under heavy security now, but if it was discovered that she was a relative of an agent, she would become untouchable to everyone but a few. It would be impossible to extract her without coming under suspicion.

Suspicion, he could handle, but more importantly, no one could even _suspect_ he was still a devout follower of Rambaldi.

* * *

A blood-curdling shriek pierced the quiet and jarred Sydney from a deep sleep. It took only a moment to acquaint herself with her surroundings and to realize the series of shrieks was emanating from Kelly.

"Shh…" Sydney whispered soothingly, shaking her gently as she disentangled Kelly from the blankets.

Without a thought, Sydney gathered Kelly close and rocked gently, talking softly to draw her back to reality.

It took several minutes before Kelly stopped screaming and struggling, stilled, then dissolved into sobs. She clung to Sydney, and Sydney held her tightly.

"You're okay, baby, you're okay, it was just a dream," Sydney murmured over and over.

Kelly finally quieted, and Sydney thought she'd gone back to sleep. But when Sydney laid Kelly back down, she sat up and scooted to lean against the wall and tucked her knees under her chin. In the dim light, Sydney saw Kelly duck her head as if waiting to be chastised.

Wanting to lesson the height difference, Sydney sat down on the cot beside Kelly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, keeping her voice soft and gentle.

Kelly cocked her head to one side.

"I'm not in trouble?" Kelly asked, her voice trembling in anticipation of something.

"No, sweetie, you're not in trouble. Why would you be in trouble?"

"I screamed. And I cried."

"Honey, you had a bad dream. I'm not mad at you. You were scared."

"I'm not supposed to be scared."

"Everybody gets scared sometimes," Sydney crooned. "Can you tell me what was scary in your dream?"

Kelly remained quiet for a long time, so long Sydney wondered if she'd fallen asleep.

"The gun," she finally whispered.

"The gun?" Sydney prompted after a moment.

Kelly nodded.

"It kills people."

"Kelly, people kill people with guns. The guns don't do it by themselves. Those people that use guns to kill people are what you need to be afraid of," Sydney explained.

Kelly looked at Sydney with newfound fear.

"You had a gun. And so did he…Vaughn."

"But…" Sydney quickly decided a white lie would be better that the full truth. "But Vaughn and I don't use our guns to kill people."

"No?"

"No."

"They did."

Sydney sighed.

"I know they did. They aren't nice people."

Shifting a little, Sydney pulled Kelly into her lap, and Kelly didn't resist. She seemed to feel the same strange connection between them that Sydney felt. She'd never felt so irresistibly drawn to another human being.

Sydney remembered then that Kelly looked so much as she herself had looked as a toddler. May be…

No. That was crazy. Yes, the Covenant had surgically stolen her eggs to attempt to create some sort of super Rambaldi child. But she'd destroyed their lab, and her eggs with it. She would not even _think_ about the possibility that Kelly could be her…

No!

It was simply impossible.

* * *

It was seemingly impossible. After the Lauren Reed incident, as it had come to be called, Dixon had really knuckled down on the protocol of high-priority cases. No one but Marcus Dixon, Sydney Bristow, and Michael Vaughn, and doctors and psychiatrists were allowed anywhere near the child, and the latter only with a chaperone from among the former.

Dixon knew the child was special, and he wasn't letting her out of his sight.

Which made it very difficult for Jack to accomplish anything. With no small amount of annoyance, he'd discovered upon arriving that morning that, even with a higher clearance than either Vaughn or Sydney, he couldn't even access the case file for the child. The file had been locked by Dixon.

Of course, Jack _could_ have hacked into the file anyway, but there was too great a chance that he'd trip an alarm in doing so. He was not that reckless.

He hadn't spent years of the CIA's time and resources controlling the life of his only daughter to have it blow up in his face now. Sure, the director at the time had been convinced SAB47 was his idea, but Jack knew better. All along, Jack had used the CIA to do what he could have, if necessary, done on his own.

So, he'd simply have to endure watching Sydney ruin the child until she could be extracted and taken somewhere safe--somewhere under lock and key, far away from the influences of her parents. Where he could control her development exactly.

Children, he'd heard, were resilient of mind. Surely the three-year-old could recover completely from her relatively brief encounter with her parents, under the proper supervision.

* * *

Oooh, evil Jack…Now we begin to understand SAB47...Review, please…tell me what I need to explain about SAB47...


	6. No Coincidence

Chapter 6: No Coincidence

Disclaimer: Alias isn't, nor has it ever been, mine.

* * *

Vaughn found Sydney still in the cell, fast asleep with Kelly in her arms. He'd stood there, just watching them, for a few minutes before Sydney's eyes fluttered open.

"Hey," Vaughn said softly.

"Hmm?" Sydney mumbled, carefully climbing off the cot so as not to wake Kelly.

"Morning to you, too," Vaughn teased.

"Uh, morning," Sydney murmured.

"Rough night?" Vaughn asked sympathetically.

Sydney nodded.

"She woke up screaming twice."

Sydney turned to face him fully, and Vaughn saw a bruise on her left cheek. He reached out and touched it gently.

"What happened?"

Sydney chuckled.

"She fought in her dreams, and hit me once before she woke up."

Vaughn winced dramatically.

"I offered to stay…" he reminded.

"I know, I know." She looked down at Kelly, her hair fanned out around her face and her lips parted slightly. "At least she's sleeping peacefully now," Sydney muttered with a maternal smile.

Vaughn smiled, too.

"You two look like you belong together," he commented before he realized the implications of the remark.

Sydney's head snapped up.

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

"I just…look at her. She looks a lot like you."

Sydney put a hand to her forehead as if nursing a headache.

"Vaughn…" She trailed off, half afraid to say the words and half afraid he'd think she was crazy. "Vaughn, do you think she could be…related to me?" she amended finally.

Vaughn studied Sydney, then the sleeping Kelly, as if the question had never occurred to him before.

"It's not impossible, looking at you," he finally said, knowing exactly what her thoughts were but not wanting to credit them by admitting he'd thought the same thing.

"But how…"

"I don't know." Vaughn was quiet for a long time, then finally said, "Dixon wants Kelly to be in medical wing by nine."

"What time is it?"

"8:30."

"Mmm," Sydney groaned.

"I'll take her," Vaughn said. "Dixon's requiring either one of us or him to be with her at all times, anyway. You can change or whatever, and I'll take Kelly."

"Take me where?"

Kelly was sitting on the edge of the cot, wide-awake. Vaughn wondered briefly how long she'd been awake, as fast as she'd made the transition.

"My boss wants me to take you to see a doctor, to make sure you're good and healthy," Vaughn said heartily, not wanting to seem wary of Kelly's reaction.

"Aren't you coming?" Kelly asked Sydney.

"No. Sorry, baby, I've got work to do," Sydney said, tousling Kelly's hair affectionately.

"You gotta work long?"

"I don't know. But I'll tell you what. I'll come find you and Vaughn as soon as I get a break, okay?"

"'Kay."

"Okay." Sydney grabbed her overnight bag from under her cot. "I'll see you guys later, then." Sydney was out the door in a flash. She was sure to have a lot of work to do, and she was already late by normal standards.

"Hey, wait!" Vaughn called out behind her. "She needs to be dressed!"

Sydney laughed at the panic in his voice.

"There's a bag of clothes her size by the TV, and I think she can dress herself, Vaughn."

"Oh. Oh, good," Vaughn muttered.

* * *

He turned around to find Kelly giving him a look that clearly said he had a lot to learn.

Vaughn very quickly discovered that Kelly was not immune to the fears of a three-year-old as he'd originally assumed.

Kelly sat obediently, while Vaughn stood in the corner, as the doctor poked here, prodded there, shined a light here and again there, all parts of a yearly physical for a child, at first.

When the doctor brought out a needle to draw blood, mistakenly presuming that his patient would remain still, Kelly flew off the exam table--which was almost twice her height--and had her arms wrapped around Vaughn's neck in the blink of an eye. Vaughn was suddenly holding the little girl, with no real idea how she'd managed to get there.

"Nonononononono!" Kelly was crying, hugging his neck tighter.

"Honey," Vaughn gasped. "I can't breathe."

"It won't even hurt, Kelly," the doctor was saying kindly, quickly having realized his mistake. "We just want to look at your blood to make sure you're healthy."

"Nonononono!"

"Kelly, please, the doctor doesn't want to hurt you. He's a good guy, I promise," Vaughn soothed, a bewildered look on his face that gave away his inexperience with children.

"You're supposta keep me safe," Kelly whimpered against Vaughn's shoulder.

"I _am_," Vaughn sighed. "Kelly, you have to stop this. Now," he finally said, his voice harsher than he'd intended. He set her on her feet and gave her what he hoped was a stern look.

Kelly hung her head in defeat. From her wide eyes, Vaughn could tell she was scared, but what could he do?

The doctor set Kelly back on the exam table and managed to draw a small amount of blood without further incident.

"You know," the doctor said, glancing over his shoulder as he put a band-aid on the prick on Kelly's arm. "She looks like Sydney."

As this particular man had been on the CIA staff for as long as Vaughn remembered, he knew the man realized the significance of his statement. If Vaughn wasn't mistaken, he'd even seen Sydney a few times. When the good doctor glanced back again, Vaughn's expression was that of severe discouragement, which the man took to mean Vaughn had already considered this and didn't appreciate his commenting on it. Well, too bad.

"You also know," he continued, unabashed, "That I could perform blood tests discreetly to determine if there's anything more to that." He now turned to fully face Vaughn.

"And you know," Vaughn said, his voice deathly flat. "That any results from said tests, as well as the very fact that they were conducted without official approval, would have to remain confidential."

Vaughn was extremely wary of making a deal with the man, but he seemed to have a genuine curiosity and concern as to the outcome of any such tests. He surely knew about Rambaldi, and it was possible that he knew about what the Covenant had done to her. _That would, after all, be a good reason to be curious_, Vaughn rationalized.

"Understood," the doctor said, Jackson, according to his nametag pinned to his jacket lapel. "I will report my findings to you, and you can do with them what you will."

"Can I go now?" Kelly asked abruptly.

"Yes," Jackson said. "I'll have to file paperwork, but you can tell Dixon I give her a clean bill of health for the time being."

* * *

Sydney tried to keep her attention on the report she was typing, but three times of the space of an hour she'd come back to herself to find her hands had stilled and the generic CIA screensaver had claimed her computer screen.

She kept wondering what Kelly had been through, where she'd come from, and if the damages to her fragile psyche could ever be repaired. Which led inevitably to wondering where the little girl would end up, what with her history. If they couldn't find her parents, she might be released into the foster care system, but with her needs to adjust, and the conditions of her situation, it was likely Dixon would want an agent keeping tabs on her, may be tracing her movements well into adulthood…

And there was that screensaver again.

Sydney sighed. She wasn't accomplishing anything at all. She might as well go join Vaughn and Kelly.

Logging off her computer and pocketing the disk her report was on, she was ready to abandon her workstation when Vaughn and Kelly appeared in the doorway of the maze of workstations she was in. She smiled across the room at Vaughn.

Vaughn smiled back, then tripped as Kelly tugged him forward. He grinned sheepishly.

"Hi!" Kelly cried a moment later, releasing Vaughn and running to Sydney. "Whatcha doing?"

"Actually," Sydney said, matching Kelly's enthusiasm. "I was just coming to look for you." She glanced up at Vaughn questioningly.

"She wanted to see you." Vaughn shrugged. "And I didn't know what else to do with her."

Sydney laughed, and Kelly developed a look of distrust.

"I don't wanna go back to my room," she whispered softly, her voice full of fear that the statement would bring with it harm.

Vaughn looked panicked, but Sydney took only a moment to figure out what had triggered her reaction.

"Honey, nobody's going to make you go there," she comforted. She personally would see to it that Kelly never returned to that bare, unfeeling, cold little room in Russia. "Vaughn just meant that he couldn't think of anyplace else you might like to go, so he brought you to see me."

Kelly took this revelation dubiously.

"He made me get a shot," she confided to Sydney.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," Sydney said. "But I'm sure he only did it because he knew he had to." She looked pointedly at Vaughn; he'd created this mess, the least he could do was help rectify it.

"Right," Vaughn said obediently. "The doctor was just making sure you aren't sick."

For a brief moment, Sydney's eyes connected with Vaughn's and she thought she saw something that didn't belong, but then it was gone. She dismissed it. What could he possibly be hiding from her?

Toward the end of the day, Dixon ordered that Kelly be left in the cell that had been turned into a playroom, more or less, an amazing number of toys having been supplied to keep Kelly occupied, so that Dixon could speak with Sydney and Vaughn candidly. Kelly had been so fascinated with the toys that were foreign to her that she'd expressed little resistance to Sydney's leaving her alone.

Dixon cut right to the point once he had the agents alone in his office.

"We need to locate an informant inside the Calling," he said. "But we have several obstacles. One, we don't know enough of the members to know if a known informant is already inside. Two, I don't want to send any other agents on such a precarious mission, but the staff psychiatrists have all assured me that the presence of you two in the immediate future is crucial to Kelly's adjustment. Three, we don't know what we're looking for. We can safely assume the Calling has a newfound prophecy, but we don't know any specifics or even what form the prophecy may be in."

"We can put out intel on Russia's black market that we need intel on the Calling," Vaughn said at the same time as Sydney said, "One of us can go and the other stay with Kelly."

Dixon shook his head.

"I don't want to tip our hand, and I was strongly advised that Kelly seems to be more deeply impressed by the both of you, rather than one or the other individually," he said. "I'm not an expert, or even well-informed, and I don't want to compromise the welfare of the child."

"So what do you want to do?" Sydney asked, her patience waning. "We're at a standstill here."

"I don't want to do anything right now," Dixon admitted. "But the fact that the CIA's efforts to find new intel have been so effectively blocked leads me to suspect they may have someone on the inside _here_."

So, Sydney thought cynically, _that is why _we_ are suddenly the only ones trusted._

Aloud, she said," Surely you don't think one of our usual team has ties to the Calling."

"I don't want to, believe me. But after the extend of damage Lauren Reed managed to cause before we even suspected there was a mole, we can't afford to assume anything," Dixon asserted.

Vaughn wasn't easily convinced they should cease to trust their fellow agents until further notice. He had finally recovered from the trauma and self-doubt he'd experienced after discovering Lauren's betrayal, and he wasn't anxious to fall back into that dark place where you suspect everyone of being traitorous as he had during the time he'd thirsted for revenge.

"Sark has been lucky enough several times in the past to just completely avoid us," Vaughn argued. "Why are you so sure this is any different?"

"Because," Dixon began solemnly. "Every time we've gotten a location on a confirmed member of the Calling, that person has disappeared without a trace. _Six times,_ Vaughn. That's no coincidence."

* * *

Yay! That was a long chapter! Review, please, and I'll try to get the next chapter up soon!


	7. No Rope

Chapter 7: No Rope

Disclaimer: Alias isn't my property; this is the real world, unfortunately.

A/N: Sorry, Eyghon, at this point, there's no Irina…that's a thought, though…may be I will add her in later on…that'd be a perfect way to--Oops. Sorry! On to the fic…

* * *

Vaughn, too, stayed with Kelly that night. Both he and Sydney had taken to heart what Dixon had said about Kelly responding better to both of them. It hadn't escaped Sydney's notice though, that Vaughn had been even less inclined to conversation than normal since the idea of a mole had been introduced.

They sat side by side in the near dark, watching Kelly sleep sometime after midnight.

"Vaughn," Sydney finally said softly, the thick silence suffocating her. "Are you okay? You've been…quiet."

Vaughn remained so for so long that Sydney began to fear he wouldn't answer her. He considered, in that space of time, saying he was fine, but he knew Sydney would see through that and didn't really want to distance her. So he chose what was to him, at the time, the lesser of two evils.

"I've been better," he murmured honestly. "I'm just not sure I can…handle the betrayal of another person I trust right now. Not something of that magnitude."

Sydney laid a hand on his arm.

"This is different," she promised. "If there's a mole, this time it isn't someone you love. I'll be here."

"I know," he said simply. "It's just…" He sighed, as much from the strain of revealing his secrets as from knowing that _he_ might have to be there for _her_ in the end of this one. "It still hurts."

Sydney shrugged into the dark.

It always will. There'll always be that feeling that there was something you should have seen. But it gets easier to deal with." God knew the betrayal she'd felt when she'd discovered her loving mother had been--was--an enemy of the state had to have gotten easier to deal with, or her mother's betrayal of the CIA would have sent her into a mental breakdown.

Vaughn draped his arm around Sydney's shoulders, silently thanking her for her unwavering support, and offering the same to her should she need it.

* * *

Kelly awoke to find Sydney and Vaughn still together on the cot. The difference was that Sydney leaned into Vaughn, her head against his chest, and Vaughn's chin rested against the top of Sydney's head.

For reasons Kelly didn't understand, she was filled with a sense of happiness at seeing them like that. She giggled, as little girls are apt to do when pleased.

Sydney sat up with a start, catching Vaughn's chin in the process.

"Ow!" she hissed.

Vaughn awoke with a grunt.

"Hell-o,' he amended when he opened his eyes to see Kelly grinning at him.

"Hi," Kelly giggled.

"Well," Sydney said, gingerly touching the sore spot on top of her head. "Did you sleep well, Kelly?"

"Uh-huh."

She giggled again.

"Oh?" Vaughn said teasingly. "Just what do you think is so funny, missy?"

"You and her!"

"_Us_, huh?"

"You was _sleeping,_" she giggled, just before Vaughn lunged and caught her around her waist and dragged her up onto the cot between himself and Sydney.

Sydney waited anxiously for fear of being manhandled to ignite in Kelly's eyes, but it didn't. To Sydney's surprise, Kelly only laughed, after the obligatory shriek, of course.

Sydney let out the breath she'd been holding and a grin stole across her face. Kelly was acting like any little girl with her parents…

Whoa, she thought. _Wrong road there._

Vaughn had picked up a doll while Sydney's mind had been elsewhere, and she watched him hand it to Kelly as gently as if it were a real baby, and Kelly took it just as timidly. Sydney watched her look at the doll's plastic face in awe, then hug it fiercely.

"Look, Sydney," Kelly said, holding up the blonde-haired baby doll. "Isn't she pretty?"

"Very," Sydney agreed.

Before long, Kelly had Vaughn and Sydney both down on the floor playing with Legos that one of the agents had undoubtedly appropriated from his son.

Dixon walked in laughing at the sight of two of his fiercest agents sprawled on the floor playing with Legos.

Vaughn actually blushed slightly, only enough for Sydney to just catch it, as he rose to a more dignified position. Sydney stayed pointedly on the floor and grinned up at Dixon.

"I see you two are enjoying yourselves," Dixon said. "I just thought I'd drop in, since it's ten o'clock and you guys haven't surfaced, and make sure she hadn't tied you up and escaped."

"I don't have any rope," Kelly said matter-of-factly, continuing to stack Legos into some complex design.

Sydney smiled and rose to her feet.

"Actually, she's been more than happy to leave us untied, right, baby?" Sydney said.

"Right," Kelly said distractedly, intent on her Legos.

"Well," Dixon said. "Unfortunately, the psychologists want to complete their analysis, and as they put all other projects on hold indefinitely, they seem to expect us to cooperate. They want to observe both of you with Kelly this time."

Sydney watched as Kelly stilled halfway to putting another Legos onto her stack, and dropped the piece in her hand at Dixon's speech. Sydney would swear she saw the girl visibly flinch at "psychologist" and "observe," words that sounded all too stiffly clinical.

"Dixon," she said low enough that Kelly couldn't hear. "I think we should talk outside. Vaughn can stay with Kelly."

Dixon considered, seemed about to discard the necessity, then nodded.

"What's the matter?" he asked as soon as the soundproof door closed behind them.

"You scare her, Dixon..."

"How did I...what did I do?" Dixon protested.

"More accurately, psychologists scare her. She senses a clinical setting, and she reverts back to what they _trained_ her to do. Just like she did when you started talking about psychologists just now," Sydney clarified.

"But she's just a little girl, she couldn't..." Dixon began to protest again.

"She understood _exactly_ what we were saying, Dixon. She was acting like any little girl until you mentioned psychologists, then she just stopped and waited like she expected to be yelled at for _playing_."

Dixon was considerably humbled by Sydney's vehement speech, and was deep in thought for several moments.

"Okay," he finally said. "What do you want to do?"

* * *

Being the highest ranking of the group, Dr. Elisa Adams was designated by Dixon to be Kelly's sole psychologist. As such, she was set up in the security office of the prison ward, allowed to observe Kelly only by cameras and microphones. High-tech cameras and microphones, but nonetheless considered hindrances by the doctor.

"Contact with the subject is a major basis of my analysis," Adams had argued in response to Dixon's order. "How can I piece together an accurate mental state of my patient if I'm not allowed contact with her?"

"Contact in a strictly non-clinical atmosphere will be arranged later on," Dixon promised. "But for now, you will observe her only by the means I've already outlined."

Elisa Adams had retreated in a huff to her newly appointed "office."

After she'd been left alone for a while and her well-known temper had cooled, Elisa Adams had acknowledged to herself that this was probably the best set-up. While it was true that she depended a great deal in her analysis of a person's mental state on actually interacting with the subject, in Kelly's mind she'd already been labeled a doctor. And Kelly clearly feared doctors, or perhaps her training was simply too strong for her to overcome it just yet. Either way, Elisa decided, Kelly wouldn't relax and open up to her like she did to Sydney Bristow. With any luck, observing from a distance would show her how to observe close up.

Kelly definitely seemed to have attached herself to Sydney. Although she still remained a wary distance--more out of habit, it seemed--she relaxed with Sydney, and didn't move away like she did with everyone else.

Vaughn had a different effect on her. He was awkward around her, which scared her a little. He'd make innocent remarks that obviously affected Kelly. Her attitude toward him was one of wary distrust, but she tolerated him, Elisa guessed, because Sydney did. She didn't feel threatened by him, certainly.

Elisa smiled. If she had to give an answer, right at that moment, she would only have to say, "Look at her." How could a child that looked so carefree ever have the deep-seated phobias Kelly was prone to?

Of course, there was already the issue of guns. Kelly, now only about three years old, would probably know for the rest of her life the bone-chilling terror of guns.

* * *

There we go! This is moving along quite nicely. I still haven't decided if I'm going to develop Elisa Adams more as a character, but as I typed this it occurred to me that I like the image I have of her. I'm thinking now that I can't help but portray her to the rest of ya'll...


	8. To Punish

Chapter 8: To Punish

Disclaimer: This is getting old. Alias does not belong to me. I'm NOT trying to usurp it, this is just wishful thinking. So _get over it_!

* * *

He hardly recognized himself, the disguise was so complete. His face seemed longer and was covered by a thick, short beard, and with a little well placed padding he looked thirty pounds heavier.

No one in the CIA would ever recognize the nameless janitor as Julian Sark. Not even Sydney Bristow. He'd get in, take back his child, and be gone before Sydney ever knew he'd been there.

A small grin stayed on his face as he passed agents he'd encountered before in the halls, and none of them even so much as glanced at him.

Vaughn did, though. _Vaughn stared_, Sark thought with a smirk,_ committing a face to memory he'd never seen before and would never see again._

A few snipped security lines, and agents scrambled to check on their newest and most important guest. Sark followed deftly behind the security team and, as he expected, they led him right to Kelly. Once assured that she was safe and not finding anyone else there--Sark slipping into whatever shadows were available--the agents left Kelly to return to more important things, like resuming the downed security feed.

Sark darted into the cell where his child sat and quickly stabbed her with a shot of a drug that would calm her, but not knock her out. He couldn't be sure she'd come willingly any more, after all. Kelly gave a strangled little cry and stared up at her captor in a dazed sort of terror.

She'd been bad. And he'd come to get her. To take her back. To punish her for being bad. All the nice people…he'd been watching all along, she decided.

Kelly hung limply within Sark's grasp.

He looks different, she thought vaguely, distantly. _But the eyes are the same. Those eyes hurt me._

That it was bad for him to hurt her was a novel thought to her, but it was quickly squashed when she realized the only people that hadn't wanted to hurt her had been working for him, too.

It was all the same in the end, she decided fuzzily.

* * *

Vaughn made a mad dash for the cells. He was _stupid_, so stupid! That son of a bitch probably had Kelly by now, and it was all his fault!

He was only vaguely aware that somewhere along the way Sydney joined him in his sprint, calling out, "Vaughn, what's going on?" as she ran. He couldn't tell her. He couldn't say he'd _seen_ the bastard that wanted to steal he _daughter_ before he'd done it. Her _daughter_, for Christ sakes!

His thoughts flashed instantly back to the doctor's words.

"There's no doubt Kelly is Sydney's child," he'd said just hours before.

"How is that possible?!?" Vaughn had shouted.

"May be you better ask her that," had been all the reply he'd gotten.

Vaughn gritted his teeth. He _would_ ask her, right after he saved Kelly from Sark and informed Sydney that she _had_ a daughter, he amended cynically.

He saw movement up ahead, and a flash of blue material that all the janitors wore. Vaughn drew his gun and thumbed off the safety as he dashed after the fleeing figure.

Sydney gasped when she rounded the corner just behind Vaughn and saw the figure holding Kelly.

"Who is he?" Sydney cried.

"Sark," Vaughn said shortly.

"Vaughn, this hall leads to the parking garage!" Sydney shouted. "We have to stop him!"

Vaughn knew she was right; if Sark got to the parking garage, they'd never find him before he got away with Kelly. Gritting his teeth, he took aim. If he hit Sark in a leg, may be Kelly wouldn't be hurt…

The shot echoed hollowly in the empty hall and ripped through Sark's left leg. He stumbled and Kelly's limp body created enough dead weight that Sark couldn't hold onto her. She tumbled to the floor and rolled several feet away from Sark, then remained motionless.

Sark shot off a few rounds, but apparently realized he stood no chance of leaving with Kelly as he stumbled to his feet. He dragged his bloody leg and hobbled out the door as fast as he could while still shooting.

As the door closed behind him and the torrent of bullets stopped, Vaughn and Sydney rushed forward.

"You get Kelly. I'll go after Sark," Vaughn assured.

Sydney never heard him. She dropped to her knees and felt for a pulse, her first fear that Kelly was dead. Then she went over her arms and legs for injuries, and when there seemed to be none, Sydney pulled the little girl into her lap. Kelly's whole body was limp, and she didn't respond at all to being moved, but Sydney hugged her tight all the same. Then she noticed he small droplet of blood forming where the needle had stuck her.

"He drugged her," she muttered, not hearing Vaughn come back in. Nor did she realize she was crying until she heard her own voice break. "The son of a bitch drugged her.

"He had to drug her? Is that why she's out cold?" Vaughn asked in concerned relief, kneeling beside Sydney and taking one of Kelly's cold hands into his own.

"I don't know," Sydney said, the worry that had been fogging up both her eyes and her thoughts clearing. "She could have hit her head. We should…"

"Sydney! Vaughn!" Dixon's voice echoed.

"Over here," Vaughn called back, and Sydney quickly wiped at her eyes.

It turned out that Sark had done better with the wire trick than he'd thought; he'd cut two main wires, wiping out half the building, including the part they were in, which was used mostly for storage and abandoned.

"What in the hell _happened_?" Dixon demanded, seeing Kelly unconscious in Sydney's lap.

"Sark," Vaughn said. "The bastard managed to get past security _and_ get to Kelly."

Dixon looked about ready to spontaneously combust.

"He drugged her," Sydney added in a carefully controlled voice. She was a professional, after all.

"He couldn't manage to get a three-year-old out without _drugging_ her?!?" Dixon exploded. Then he stopped, closed his eyes for a moment, and Sydney could almost see him fighting for calm control. "We should take her to the doctor," he managed in a soft tone.

Sydney rose to her feet, half dragging Kelly with her.

"Let me get her," Vaughn said quickly.

"No, I…"

"Syd."

Relenting, she relinquished Kelly to Vaughn's arms. She found out fast that she had to search way too deep to find that part of her that could analyze Sark's move without too much of a biased fury.

"We know how important she is to him now," she offered her companions.

"I'm ordering full security on her from now on," Dixon replied. "That means locks on the doors, at least an agent with her and one watching security cams at all times."

"I'll stay with her," Sydney offered readily.

"Actually, I was in the process of scheduling a briefing when Sark created chaos," Dixon said. "We'll talk in the conference room in one hour. I'll arrange for Kelly's protection."

"What's going on?" Sydney demanded.

Dixon fixed her with a knowing, all too perceptive stare.

"Nothing you're going to like," he allowed. "Let's just take care of Kelly and deal with Sark first, then we'll get into the rest of the intel. It'll keep for an hour at this point."

* * *

Damn them. How had they found him, anyway? There had already been agents to check on Kelly, why had Sydney and Vaughn shown up? Sark was positive Vaughn hadn't recognized him; who would? Yet he'd shown up and known exactly who he was after.

They'd even gotten the kid. While Sark felt no parental obligation to the child, he had developed a certain affection for her. It was either that, or wait an eternity for possession of some awesome power Rambaldi warned of.

Sark would definitely have to rethink his strategy a little. An armed team, may be, as a distraction. Of course, considering the amount of blood currently soaking his pant leg, he'd have to send someone else in after Kelly. His leg was fairly numb as of yet, but it'd hurt like hell tomorrow.

* * *

Yay! Sarky got his wittle leg shot off...lol. Okay, so I exaggerate. But I've never been partial to his character. Shooting him, even only by controlling the fictitious trigger-finger of my own personal Vaughn, feels good! lol. Review, please!


	9. A Bit Of A Legend

Chapter 9: A Bit Of A Legend

Disclaimer: Okay, okay, contrary to my claim at the end of chapter 8, I do not have my own personal Vaughn. Burst my bubble, why don't you!

scorpiowolf: I can't explain your question entirely, but I'll give you this: In Jack's secret prophecy thing that he never told anybody about, it said Sark was _supposed _to be Kelly's father. I'm not real sure where I'm taking that yet, so your question really has no concrete answer right now.

Eyghon: Uh, thanks, I think. I'm not used to such…enthusiastic praise…

eagle219406: Crap. As much as I appreciate useful criticism--and believe me, I do appreciate it--**YOU JUST SCREWED UP MY PLOT LINE!!!!!** Now I have to fix it...I hate to be wrong...You just go read the rest of my fic and see how I salvage it. I can't leave it alone, I have to be a friggin' perfectionist...

* * *

"She'll sleep for a few more hours, at least," Vaughn commented, noting the lines of worry creasing Sydney's forehead. 

"I know," she said, barely surprised by Vaughn's observation. "I just..." She looked over at him as they walked together to the briefing. "I want to be there when she wakes up. She'll be scared."

Vaughn felt more than a little guilty for not telling her, but now was not the time.

"She'll be okay," he said, hoping he sounded less calloused than he felt.

He must have sounded strange, because Sydney gave him an odd look over her shoulder as she pushed open the door of the conference room.

The first thing both of them saw was Kendall, along with two agents neither of them recognized.

"Agents Vaughn, Bristow," Dixon gestured quickly at them in turn. "You know Kendall, and these are Agents Harte and Quentin. DSR."

"Why?" Vaughn asked carefully. Past experiences with DSR had not been good.

"I called them," Dixon said.

"_Why_?" Vaughn repeated.

Dixon hesitated slightly.

"I believe DSR could be helpful in finding out what use Sark has for the child. Since we believe it to be Rambaldi related, it falls in their jurisdiction as well as ours."

Resigned to the interference of another agency, Sydney and Vaughn moved to seats at the table. Vaughn was inexplicably relieved that the six of them seemed to be the only ones invited to the briefing.

Harte, apparently the more outspoken of the pair that flanked Kendall, spoke up first in an attempt to break the ice.

"Personally, Agent Bristow," he said with a charming that contrasted nicely against his jet-black hair and generally dangerous look. "I'm looking forward to working with you. You're a bit of a legend within DSR."

Sydney frowned, and observed Quentin shaking his head slightly at his partner.

"The Prophecy, or the fact that a centuries old prophet controls so much of my life? Which part intrigued _you_, Agent Harte?" she snapped at Harte.

"My partner," Quentin jumped in before Harte could get himself in any more trouble. "Only meant that it's commonly known that you played a major part in collecting the artifacts we now have." Quentin had the kind of average Joe look that made him vaguely endearing, and, despite Harte's smile, made him the more charming of the two. "We both look forward to working with an agent of your status."

Kendall's look of amusement suggested that he'd expected the exchange. Dixon restrained himself and managed to suppress a grin. While Sydney battled the intruders, Vaughn studied them, filing away nuances of their characters for later reference.

"I have briefed them on our current situation, up to what you know," Dixon interrupted to inform Sydney and Vaughn. "But..." He looked uneasy again. "Some new intel has come to our attention. First, a safe deposit box in a bank in Geneva, Switzerland has been linked to the Calling. The box is believed to contain records of Kelly's birth and development up to, at very least, one year. A great deal of that information would be considered irrelevant by the Calling and has been stored." Again, Dixon hesitated, as if omitting something. "Agents Harte and Bristow will be sent to retrieve the contents of the box."

Sydney's lips thinned to a fine line, and Harte burst out, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Dixon thought it best that one of the agents the child is familiar with remain, and Harte is good with bank security," Kendall said dryly.

Quentin jerked a thumb at Harte.

"He _can_ talk his way into most places, but his social skills leave much to be desired."

Harte gave Quentin a go-to-hell look, but said nothing.

Dixon grinned as he passed files to Sydney and Harte.

"You leave for Switzerland tonight," he offered. "Until then, might I suggest you work on some sort of protocol for not killing each other?"

"I know he's annoying as hell, but I'd hate to have to go through getting used to a new partner," Quentin cracked.

Harte remained stubbornly silent, lest he get himself in a bigger mess.

Dixon filled the silence.

"Vaughn, you'll be guarding Kelly, Quentin will be on surveillance until we hear from Sydney and Harte."

* * *

The plane, which wasn't the smallest of the CIA's fleet, couldn't have seemed much stuffier. To add to it, Sydney suffered from a headache and a general bad mood. 

Vaughn had approached her several times as if to say something, but never told her anything of importance. Harte had also approached her, probably with the intention of apologizing but each encounter had wound up another verbal battle. Kelly had awoken to have returned to the distant, submissive child she'd been originally. Now Sydney was stuck feet away from Harte and they were stepping around each other like they were in a minefield.

Sydney sighed.

"We're going to have to get past this," she said reluctantly.

"I agree," Harte said quickly. "I want to apologize for what I said earlier. Quentin was right; I only meant that you were well known for being an excellent agent."

Sydney sighed again.

"For future reference, Rambaldi is not taken lightly around here," she said. "I've been arrested, kidnapped, and shot at, to say the least, over Rambaldi. Nothing about Rambaldi will ever be good in my eyes."

"Noted," Harte said.

"Now, let's go over the mission details," she moved on. "Make sure we have this together."

Harte was half dazed.

"Wow," he muttered. "You're just over it, just like that?"

Sydney raised her eyebrows.

"We could go back to awkward silence if you prefer," she snapped sarcastically.

"Uh, no, I just…" Harte stopped. "Op tech," he said decidedly.

"Mini laser, capable of cutting through six inches of metal," Sydney said.

"And a pen that sprays a powerful sleeping gas," Harte continued.

"You _charm_ the women working at the front desk."

"And you dazzle the guards with your short skirt."

"And then I knock them out," she countered.

"And I hack into the security system so that you _can_ knock them out."

"And I break into the safe deposit box."

"And I meet you at the back exit."

Sydney smirked.

"So you win because you get to drive." 

"No. I win because I get to drive a fancy sports car."

Sydney narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're a smart ass," she commented.

Harte shrugged.

"Not all the time. I _can _be charming."

"I'll believe it when I see it," she muttered.

Harte smirked this time.

"Well, personally, I don't believe you can possibly fit in that leather skirt you're supposed to be wearing," he commented.

Sydney raised her eyebrows, and Harte laughed when he realized what he'd said.

"I give up. You're not going to tell your Agent Vaughn on me, are you?"

"What?"

"You don't think it's obvious? Ya'll are so sleeping together," Harte said, as he relaxed his voice developing a southern drawl. "I'm more observant that you'd think. I could read it between ya'll every time you moved or talked." He grinned. "He'd kick my ass if he thought I'd called you fat."

Sydney shook her head, but her lips turned up at the corners.

"I don't get you, Harte." She glanced over at the laughing expression on his face. "And I'm not sure I want to."

* * *

Okay, I couldn't help it. I had to develop Harte here. I had this idea of his character, and I couldn't leave it alone. No worries, though, and don't get any ideas; Syd's relationship with Harte will be as platonic as her relationship with Weiss, with a mutual friendly affection. Now, please be good little readers and review…I try to answer questions asked in reviews in the next chapter, so gimme something to work with and I'll try to make ya'll happy… 


	10. Like A Book

Chapter 10: Like A Book

Disclaimer: Nope, Alias isn't mine. I have no life; don't depress me any further.

* * *

Kelly, not interested in any of the toys at the moments, sat on her cot and stared across the cell at Vaughn, who sat on _his_ cot and stared back because he didn't know what else to do.

Vaughn knew that Agent Quentin would be watching the security feed and, if his initial impression of the man had been correct, laughing at Vaughn's clear loss of what to do with the kid.

"You want to watch a movie?" Vaughn asked.

"Are there any new ones?" Kelly countered.

"No."

"No."

"How about drawing? You like to draw?"

"I'm not allowed to."

"Sure you are."

"You'll tell…"

"No I won't," Vaughn protested quickly.

"And then he'll get mad at me." Kelly's eyes bored hatefully into Vaughn's; she had trusted them, they had shown her a different way, but they'd only been working for him.

"Kelly, I promise nobody will tell him anything. You're allowed to draw here," Vaughn pleaded. It scared him to see Kelly so unmoved, and pretty much unresponsive to gestures of affection now. Damn Sark anyway!

"Do I have to talk?" Kelly asked insolently.

"No, not if you don't want to."

"I don't want to," she assured him.

Vaughn shrank back to lean against the wall. _This_ child scared him. There was something hard in her. Something that, even with all he'd seen and done, hadn't hardened in Vaughn yet. This wasn't even the same child he and Sydney had fallen asleep together watching. _This_ child's demeanor was entirely hateful, untrusting, and withdrawn, not at all like the child Kelly had come to be.

How was he going to tell Sydney that Kelly was still so distant? And then he'd have to tell her the truth…that this unreachable child was _hers_.

"Look," Vaughn finally said despondently. He stood and put a drawing pad and crayons beside Kelly. "Draw, color, don't, whatever. I don't care any more."

Then he left. Without a backward glance, he walked out the door--which, thankfully for his dignified exit, Quentin had released the lock on--and all the way to the security office.

"Man, that was cold," Quentin commented as Vaughn grabbed a chair and watched Kelly on three different monitors. She remained still and watchful.

"I don't know what to do with her," Vaughn admitted. "As cold as this is going to sound, if I can make her cry at least I'll know she's capable of breaking down, of feeling something still."

"According to the reports I've read on this kid, you may want to back down a bit. You break this kid, your Sydney Bristow is not going to be happy with you," Quentin observed, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"What are you talking about?" Vaughn replied warily.

Quentin chuckled. He wasn't incapable of humor, he just thought a satire funnier than The Three Stooges.

"One, Sydney Bristow is way too attached to this kid. When she thinks nobody's watching, she frets like a mother hen. If you screw up this kid, she's going to hate you, which brings me to point number two. _You_ fret over _her_ while _she _frets over _Kelly_."

Vaughn stared, so Quentin shrugged.

"I'm just saying."

"Well, don't," Vaughn said. "It's not a good feeling to know you can read me like a book."

"Sorry." Quentin looked back to the monitors. "Hey. Where is she?"

"What?" Vaughn looked, and he saw the blanket that hung down over the edges of Sydney's cot move slightly.

"May be if I turn up the volume I can…" Quentin started.

"No. She's there."

Vaughn darted back up the hall, guilt slamming into him like a freight train.

* * *

"Harte, take Blondie over there," Sydney said. "I'll slip in that door behind her."

"Can do," Harte said amicably, flashing a flirtatious smile that only helped cement his role as tall dark and charming.

"I'm immune," she muttered as they separated.

She had to admit Harte did a marvelous job of distracting the blonde teller, while she slipped through a door clearly marked _Authorized Personnel Only_. As planned, she blended right in with the bank executives. She could still hear Harte chatting with the teller.

"I'm past phase one," she whispered into the microphone in her wristwatch.

Harte quickly but smoothly finished his alleged business and abandoned the now flustered teller to mourn that she hadn't even gotten his name.

Leaving the bank by the front exit, Harte dodged stealthily around through an alley to a fuse box near a back door. He methodically took out every fuse and scattered them throughout the debris in the alleyway. Then he ducked in the door into the pitch-black interior.

He pulled out a tiny penlight to navigate by. He knew he had sixty second to get to the safe deposit box room and back, and he could only hope Sydney was as good as everyone said she was. Harte knew very few people who could break into an unknown safe deposit box in under thirty seconds, and by his guess she had about twenty if they were going to get out before the emergency generators kicked in and security feed was back up.

"Sydney?" he hissed.

"I'm here," Sydney said out of the dark, and Harte saw her penlight scanning the wall of boxes.

"You haven't even found it yet?" Harte demanded.

"I ran into a damned security guard around the corner," she responded. "He's gonna have one hell of a headache when he wakes up."

Harte was duly impressed with Sydney so far. The whole time she talked, she worked, and by the end of her intermittent speech she was in the box.

Harte grabbed up a stack of folders and helped Sydney jam the destroyed box back into its cubby. He glanced at the digital display on his watch.

"Twenty seconds," he said. "I hope you run fast."

Sydney took half the folders.

"I ran track. I'll be out; question is, will you?"

Nineteen seconds later, a sleek red sports car screeched out of the bank parking lot, both of the occupants grinning triumphantly.

* * *

Dixon sat alone in his office, staring at the satcom phone on his desk and praying for it to ring. Sydney and Agent Harte knew what they were getting into. They understood that it was imperative to get out in the allotted time, because the Calling likely had someone inside, just in case. Dixon had made damn sure they understood that, and he trusted them.

Thirty seconds just wasn't very long to break into a safe deposit box.

Of course, Dixon realized, he wouldn't have been so worried if he possibly could have sent Vaughn with her. He knew and trusted Vaughn and his work, and knew Vaughn loved her. But, alas, someone had to stay with Kelly. Even though Kelly mostly seemed as content--if one could call her that at any time now--alone as she did with Vaughn.

He'd wait a few more minutes for Syd's report, that was all. If he didn't pick up on the first ring, the call would be transferred to a team of analysts. He had dozens of things to do. He really shouldn't be sitting here, waiting for one agent, when he had hundreds of others to oversee…

Dixon had risen resolutely from his seat to leave when the phone trilled. He gladly pressed a button to connect.

"Mountaineer, reporting," Sydney said at the tell-tale click.

"Good to hear, Mountaineer," Dixon said. "Were you successful?"

"Yes." Sydney's voice changed, and after a pause she asked, "Is this a secure line?"

"Yes," Dixon assured warily.

"Dixon, there was a paper, not official, but a birth certificate of sorts. I hid it from Harte, but, Dixon, _it named me as the mother_," she hissed. Harte must have been nearby, or she was afraid of being overheard.

"What?!? No, Sydney, that's impossible, I was there, you destroyed their lab…"

"Dixon, I _know_ that. But that's what the paper says." Sydney sounded exasperated. "We better wait until Harte and I get back with all the documents to look at this."

"I'll do what I can. I'll find out for sure, Sydney," Dixon promised.

"You do that," Sydney said, then disconnected.

* * *

Dum-Duhdumdum. Duuuuuuuhhh! Vaughn's in trouble now! See, that's why secret agents shouldn't try to keep secrets. Every time they do they get busted and get in to more trouble than they would have if they'd just _told_ the person they were keeping the secret about. Well, as long as Vaughn doesn't let Dixon find out he already knows, he should be all right…


	11. Proxies And Firewalls

Chapter 11: Proxies and Firewalls

Disclaimer: Alias isn't mine. I won't try to steal it. So don't sue me.

* * *

Vaughn slipped in the door silently and, hopefully, without Kelly's knowledge. He sat Indian style in front of Sydney's cot, then reached out and pulled the blanket up.

What he saw both broke his heart and gave him hope. Kelly lie on her back, her mouth clamped shut, her eyes squeezed closed, and her little hands fisted at her sides. She even seemed to be holding her breath in a furious attempt not to cry.

"Kelly?" he said softly, and as gently he could manage.

Kelly started, her eyes opening wide. She turned and sat up so fast she cracked her head on the underside of the cot. She muffled a cry and bit her lip, but her eyes stayed wide open to stare at Vaughn, heedless of the tears that streaked down her face.

Vaughn didn't move for fear of scaring her further.

"I'm sorry Kelly. That was my fault. Come on out here, let me see. Does it hurt?" Vaughn held out a hand, but Kelly didn't move. He left it there anyway. He was determined that, having scared and upset her, he was going to regain her trust if it killed him.

"Kelly, please, baby," he continued. "I know that must have hurt. Let me see. I just want to make sure you're okay. I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry I scared you."

"You didn't scare me," Kelly insisted, but she cowered away from his hand. "I'm not scared."

"I know you _are_," Vaughn accused lightly. "I don't want to scare you. Can you tell me what I'm doing to scare you now?"

Kelly remained quiet for a moment, then burst out, "You work with him! You said you'd protect me, but you let him take me away! You lied! You work for him, just like all the others!" Her voice rose with each syllable, and by the time she finished her voice was a terrified shriek.

"Kelly," Vaughn said firmly, rising onto his knees to reach out and pull Kelly by the shoulders out from under the cot. "Kelly, I do not work for him. I hate him. And so do you," he realized. "You hate him, and you hate me because you think I work for him."

Kelly sobbed out of desperation as Vaughn put her on the cot and kneeled in front of her so they were on eye level.

"Kelly, baby, I'm not going to hurt you," Vaughn pleaded. "What do I have to do to make you believe me?"

"Leave me alone!" Kelly sobbed. "Just leave me alone!"

"Kelly," Vaughn said, hurt even though he fully understood that Kelly was scared to death. "I can't do that. I want us to be friends. Besides, you shouldn't be alone. You're safer if I'm with you."

"You'll let him get me again. You'll tell him I was bad." But she was wavering, doubting her own convictions.

"I don't want to ever see him again," Vaughn assured her. "And I don't think you've been bad at all."

"But I..."

"You've done nothing wrong, Kelly." Vaughn was careful not to call Sark by name. "He was the one who was bad. You belong here, with me and Sydney. We'll take care of you, Kelly."

Kelly smiled shyly, then hesitantly put her arms around his neck.

* * *

Dixon stormed the cell ward, intent on dragging Kelly off to begin tests to determine her mother immediately. Agent Quentin, however, shot into the hall to stop him.

"Director Dixon!" Quentin yelled. "I hate to bother you, but I don't think you should go down there now."

"Why _not_?" Dixon demanded furiously.

"Because the kid was freaking out, and Agent Vaughn's still trying to calm her down."

Dixon relented and followed Quentin back into the security office to watch the monitors. Quentin had the sound turned up so he could hear what Vaughn was saying to the kid.

"You belong here, with me and Sydney. We'll take care of you," the grainy sound of Vaughn's voice came through the speakers.

Dixon fumed. That sounded entirely too much like Vaughn knew something he didn't. And Dixon did not like to be kept in the dark. Deciding Vaughn had done enough, Dixon marched down the hall and instead of blasting in the door when he heard the lock release, he simply glared through the glass until Vaughn looked around to meet his gaze. It only took a Vaughn as moment to decide he didn't want to have whatever discussion he and Dixon were about to have in Kelly's presence. He spoke softly to Kelly and left her to her own devices, promising he'd be right back.

"My office," Dixon said tightly when Vaughn walked out.

"What is this about?" Vaughn asked warily.

"You'll know soon enough," Dixon replied cryptically. He figured that if Vaughn had done something he should know about, then he deserved to sweat it a little while.

As they entered Dixon's office, he ordered Vaughn to sit, and Vaughn returned that he'd rather stand, refusing to give an inch until he knew what was going on.

"I happened across a piece of intel that I think you may find interesting, Agent Vaughn," Dixon began, keeping his face unreadable. "But first, you made a statement that I found particularly intriguing." Here he paused, to gauge Vaughn's reaction.

"When did I make this alleged statement?" Vaughn asked coolly, having determined Dixon was accusing him somehow, and finding it unlike Dixon to not come right out and ask him.

"Only minutes ago."

"When I was talking to Kelly?" Vaughn asked, confused. He only knew he'd been so anxious to get Kelly to trust him again that he didn't remember half of what he said, but he was pretty sure nothing he'd said should have aroused this kind of suspicion.

"Precisely. What did you mean by saying Kelly _belongs_ with you and Sydney, Agent Vaughn?" Dixon demanded.

Vaughn remained baffled for a few more moments, then understanding dawned.

"You've heard from Sydney, then." He dropped into the leather chair in front of Dixon's desk with a mildly defeated air.

"I have." Dixon waited for Vaughn to explain himself. One always got a more complete confession that way.

"Okay. I knew before Sydney and Harte left, but I didn't have a chance to tell Syd. How do you tell someone something like that? That the Rambaldi artifact she and I were sent to retrieve was her _daughter_, for God's sakes." Vaughn glared at Dixon. "How did she find out?"

Dixon sighed. He should ask how Vaughn had known, but he wasn't sure he'd want to know. After all, he trusted Vaughn. He could let one of his best agents have his secrets, even if he _had _been ready to lynch him a few minutes ago.

"It was in the records Syd and Agent Harte recovered. Syd found it, but she kept it from Harte. He doesn't know. I was going to have tests run. Still will, for appearances, I guess."

Vaughn was quiet for a moment.

"I had every intention of telling Sydney what I found out," Vaughn finally asserted, standing. "I didn't want her to find out this way."

Dixon smirked, and Vaughn knew he'd been boxed in.

"You can still tell her," he said. "You can tell her the tests came back positive, and about your involvement in them."

Vaughn nodded resignedly and left. He had to tell her anyway, but having his marching orders wasn't setting well.

* * *

Sark trusted her. Believed she was still crazed with the quest for anything Rambaldi.

That was the important thing. He had to believe her hunger for all things Rambaldi still overpowered all else, all pre-existing loyalties. That was the only way she could help the only people she loved.

She had spent months infiltrating what had been ,at the time, no more that Sark's merry little gang of Rambaldi treasure hunters. She'd worked her way up. All that time, just to get close to Sark. Through cloak and dagger, she'd even managed to wrangle a few meetings with his mysterious informant.

That Sark believed the man--and Irina was sure it was a man--with so little proof had shocked her. But Sark had become just the tiniest bit foolhardy. Not enough to get him caught, but enough to get him screwed over a few times.

She had, through those meetings she'd conducted by herself, began to trace the man that was culminating a threat to her first daughter. No one would hurt her again, not while Irina could stop it.

She did watch out for Nadia, too, but the last she'd been able to find of Nadia she and Sloane had been happily chasing some elusive Rambaldi artifact, not doing much damage or putting herself in much danger. Irina didn't even remember what they'd been after.

One of her first things that struck her about Sark's source was that she was sure she'd contacted him before. Human voices had certain patterns that a well-trained agent remembered subconsciously, that even machine-altered sounds can't hide. Irina was sure she knew not only his voice, but the personality behind it.

Oh, he was good. He'd taken every precaution, hidden behind layers and layers of proxies and firewalls and bouncing his signal off of so many satellites that she was sure he must have given himself a migraine just setting it all up. But she was close now. Just one more contact, she believed, and she'd be able to get a location, or a name, or something that would point her to the source of the problem.

* * *

Okay, ya'll happy now? Someone gave me the idea for this early on, and I couldn't resist. Irina taking out the jackass that's making Sydney miserable (especially since it's Jack!) is just too good!


	12. Fallocieux Une

Chapter 12: Fallocieux Une

Disclaimer: Alias isn't mine. Vaughn isn't mine. Nor are any other characters here depicted.

isabelle: I LOVE you!!!! It's so great to be appreciated!! lol. I feel so guilty that I might be causing you to neglect you own writing...but, as you can see, I'm doing no such thing! Enjoy!

* * *

Agent Harte commented--for about the tenth time--that there seemed to be several pages missing from the file on Kelly's birth.

Sydney gritted her teeth. She was well aware that there were pages missing. Six, to be exact.

"It's possible the Calling needed those pages for something," she commented with feigned helpfulness.

She leaned back in her plane seat. She was exhausted, but the notion that Kelly could be her daughter wouldn't let her sleep now any more than it had the last six hours. She'd put those hours to use, at least. She was minimally familiar with parts of the material. She knew Kelly had walked two months sooner than was average. That she'd had a vocabulary double the norm at a year. She knew Kelly had been subjected to thousands of vigorous training methods to turn her into a super-genius. That she could read on a third grade level before she was three.

Sydney also knew a lot of things that, if she had her way, Harte would never see. She was listed as Kelly's mother. Kelly had been born on February twentieth, so she was three now. Kelly was described as the Chosen One.

But there was no father listed anywhere. Sydney found that strange. Her name appeared in six different places in the file, but Kelly hadn't been called anything but subject, and there was no man's name anywhere.

Sydney's thoughts drifted unbidden to Vaughn. Even with his mistakes, Kelly was attached to him. A small grin crossed her face briefly. Vaughn even managed to look like a daddy, when Kelly got him down on the floor to play with her, or he scooped her up all of a sudden. Without a lot of a stretch, Sydney could see herself and Vaughn and Kelly, as a family. Kelly would need a lot to disabuse her of Sark's influence, but that wouldn't be a problem. They could all be happy, and…

Sydney stopped herself. She was delusional. She already had the white picket fence and the kid planned out here. Yet in the four years since Lauren's death, Sydney didn't feel like she'd ever come close to getting a commitment out of Vaughn. She was building castles in the air here, and they were undoubtedly going to land on her when the clouds they were sitting on blew away.

Hell, she thought, chastising herself for putting herself where she was. _I think I even saw a minivan in the driveway. Right next to the little terrier named Rover._

She didn't even have proof Kelly was her child. As much--and as unreasonably--as she wanted it, she could hardly take the word of an agency headed by _Sark_. Besides, Vaughn wasn't quite so ready to play daddy, as much as he seemed to like Kelly.

* * *

Jack always paced when he could manage it without being seen. It was good exercise, but a sign of weakness if one couldn't control it.

He paced now, on his terrace high above the LA streets. Sure, he could be seen from the street, but no one could identify him from there. So he paced. Back and forth, back and forth.

Kelly was spending too long in the hands of Sydney and Vaughn. He had to get her out. But how could he do anything now, when Kelly was being watched so closely?

Sark. That was the only answer he could see. Coerce Sark into getting Kelly for him. Then, when Sark least expected it, before the CIA even knew she was gone, Jack would steal her away from Sark. He'd never see it coming.

He'd contact Sark to set up a meeting--a highly secret, high security, voice altered, net meeting--tonight. Two days, tops, and he'd have Kelly, Rambaldi's prophecy, protected from her parents, free to grow into Rambaldi's prophecy of power.

A simple two word anonymous e-mail, and Sark would jump to arrange a time. _Fallocieux Une_. Elusive One, in French. His own personal show of arrogance. He'd always manage to just slip away unnoticed. Just as he always had.

* * *

Vaughn grew increasingly anxious as the time grew nearer for Sydney's return. He thought up speeches, then scrapped them and started all over again. Sydney would hate him, but he had to tell her he'd known before. No, he should just tell her he'd arranged to run the tests. No, he couldn't lie, not even by omission. Not about this. She'd catch him. Then she'd probably kill him.

All the time, he stayed with Kelly. He stacked Legos in to a completely abstract shape--he never had liked the damn things as a kid--while Kelly constructed a miniature chair. Eh drew a rough sketch of Sydney's face while Kelly colored cartoon characters she'd never seen. He hooked up old-fashioned rabbit ears to the TV in the corner, and Kelly watched whatever was on.

It was late when Sydney walked into the cell. Kelly had long been asleep, but Vaughn had waited up for her, only feigning sleep while he lied on a third cot that had been added for his use. He sat up as soon as she came in.

"Hey," she said, managing only a weak smile. She wondered, not for the first time, if Dixon had told him what she'd reported.

"Hey," Vaughn responded, forcing a smile and leaving no doubt as to whether he knew. "We need to talk," he added, putting a hand on her arm to direct her back out into the hall. Not only would the hall be silent, the cameras were only activated in the cell.

"How much…What did Dixon tell you?" Sydney asked.

Vaughn took a deep breath.

"Better question would be what did I tell Dixon," he admitted. Sydney was confused, but she held her tongue; Vaughn would get around to explaining. "Syd, I…after you asked me if I thought you and Kelly could be…related, I kept thinking about it. I allowed tests to be run that would pinpoint your relation, if there was any. Syd, I…I knew the results before you left."

Sydney's first instinct, strangely, was to yell at Vaughn for not telling her before she left.

"And…?" she asked quietly.

"Syd, without a doubt, Kelly is your daughter."

Deeply embedded professionalism forced Sydney to ask, as soon as she'd caught her breath again, whether Dixon knew all this.

"I told him. He's going to run tests, just for appearances. No one else knows," he promised.

"I have a daughter," Sydney breathed, awe creeping into her eyes now. "But how…? I just don't understand…"

"Syd…" Vaughn placed a hand on her arm. "You know as well as I do that you may never know how. Or why, for that matter. She's just yours."

"I know, I just can't…I never really thought…I didn't expect it to be true." She paused, and a determined expression overcame her face. "I have to tell Kelly."  
  
Vaughn's eyes widened a little.

"Syd, may be you should get used to the idea yourself, before you tell Kelly. Dixon may want to consult with the psychiatrist, Adams. She'll want to determine whether Kelly can accept it, or…"

"Vaughn." Sydney held up a hand. "Okay. You're right. But I have to be the one to tell her."

* * *

Being this close the truth, after all these months, _years_, was rejuvenating. She wanted to be free to pace, to be anxious, but Sark remained close by. He, too, was curious the man he'd begun to call merely Informant wanted to talk so soon after Kelly had disappeared. More yet, after his failed attempt to retrieve her.

Sark had already informed Irina that she would do al the talking, when the connection was established. Even though the man had to be well aware that he'd talked to as many as three different persons posing as Sark, and he had no way of knowing who was the real one, Sark hesitated to give him anything that could be used in any way against him, if the Informant was in a position to do so.

Typing rapidly on the laptop in front of her, Irina established a round about connection with the Informant. Without Sark's knowledge, she's also set her tracer program on the link. She'd programmed it to reveal its discoveries only when prompted to avoid being caught at it by Sark.

He had his team trying to trace the Informant, of course. But he simply didn't have the connections she had, and wasn't near accomplishing it.

"You tried to retrieve the child," the Informant said smugly. A smugness all the more irritating because Irina was sure she knew it. "And you failed."

"I will succeed in time," Irina said, trying to sound more like Sark than herself. She had a sinking feeling that she could be recognized by the Informant as likely as she could recognize him.

"Not alone," eh replied. "The CIA will never let you get near the child now."

"They won't know what hit them," Irina said calmly, having heard Sark say the same thing hours before.

Even through the demented, mechanically altered voice that replied, Irina _felt _that she knew it.

"I can help you."

"Why? What's in it for you?"

"As I've said before, I'm only a believer of Rambaldi's work. This child is meant to grow. She in endangered by her mother."

"How so?"

"Her very presence is a hindrance to the child. Bristow will teach her things she's not meant to know."

After a long moment of silence, Irina said, "Why did you contact me?"

"I can help you."

"So you said. Drop the cryptic bullshit and explain yourself, or do not expect to hear from me again," Irina snapped.

Behind her, Sark nodded approval.

"Understood. I have discovered that the CIA has begun running tests to determine the child's parents. You have to get her before they discover the truth, or she will undoubtedly disappear. You'll never get her then."

"That's not going to help us get her."

"But this will. There are DSR agents in the facility where the child is being held. If there is enough of a distraction, Agents Bristow and Vaughn will leave the child with the DSR agents. As they're unfamiliar with you, you should have little trouble taking them out. They seem to be a rag tag pair anyway."

And how would you know all this," Irina said, slowly, deliberately, and realizing the fact she'd been overlooking as she said it. "Unless you're inside."

"Not your concern," the Informant said easily. "Your only concern is distracting Vaughn and Bristow."

The connection terminated, and Irina snapped the laptop closed and tucked it in to a case.

"You'll assemble a team immediately?" she asked Sark. As long as he was going to be busy for a while, she could assess the extent of her success. And pray that her nagging suspicions were completely unfounded, for Sydney's sake.

* * *

Hehe! I love having Irina in this, and, though I can't explain it just yet, ya'll are definitely going to love where I'm going with this. I miss Irina in the show…Don't ya'll? 


	13. Nothing More

* * *

Chapter 13: Nothing More

Disclaimer: No, Alias isn't mine. I also don't speak three different languages as this story may later suggest. I've had to look up every bit of it up on the internet. I don't even speak Spanish; I don't take Spanish I until next semester. I _wanted_ to take French, but my backwoods high school doesn't even offer it…

A/N: No worries! I know some of you think it seems like this story's wrapping up, but it's got a ways to go yet. I'm just trying to tie up some loose ends through here so I have a nice solid rope by the time I get to the end…

* * *

Jack was more than satisfied. He'd have a clear, impossible to miss signal when Sark and his team arrived. While everyone else attacked the more obvious threat, Jack would head Sark off before he could return to his mode of transportation. Tuck the girl into the car, hide her in one of his empty storehouses for a while, until he found a somewhere he could put her on a more permanent basis.

No one would ever suspect Jack had her. Not until the child was grown, and then it would be too late.

* * *

Irina stared at her computer screen, unable to believe what she saw.

Thankfully, Sark was busy arranging a team. One that, for reasons Sark accepted, Irina couldn't be a part of. It was best, she'd told him, for her to work behind the scenes and not alert the CIA to her involvement in the Calling's activities.

Her hacking program had finally broken through all of the firewalls of the Informant's computer. She hadn't gotten a name, but she'd gotten the location and access--minimal, but all the same--to the unit's hard drive.

The contact had been made from the underground parking garage of the CIA.

Several programs that required high clearance to get access to had been loaded onto the computer.

The programs used to firewalls the unit had been designed--at a high price, no doubt--by one of her own black market contacts for security needs.

Irina knew very few CIA agents with contacts of the status of the hacker who'd created the security program. Even fewer who'd have the nerve to contact a criminal as prominent as Sark. Only one who was close enough to Sydney to know her reaction to a given situation.

If Irina found him, the sob of a bitch would die at her hands.

She jumped up, slamming the laptop closed. She had to find Sark. Convince him she might be needed on the op.

It was true, what she'd said. _They _wouldn't know what hit them.

* * *

Vaughn couldn't help but grin. As much as Sydney wanted to tell Kelly, she hadn't. Instead, she'd fought tediously to gain Kelly unwavering trust--which she was managing without reducing Kelly to tears--and had sat on the floor with her for hours, playing whatever Kelly wanted to, from board games, to dolls, to Legos--Kelly had taken a special liking to those.

Sydney was still sprawled on the floor, now with a coloring book in front of her. Something Vaughn was pretty sure she hadn't done since she was about six.

Vaughn hated to be the one to tell her that Dixon needed her in debrief.

"Syd," he said softly, opening the door finally. "Dixon said they've finished a preliminary analysis of the documents you and Harte brought back. He needs you for the debrief."

Sydney gave Vaughn a pleading look.

"I'll stay with Kelly," he promised.

Kelly looked at Sydney with the same expression Sydney had turned on Vaughn.

"I don't want you to go," Kelly said simply, but with a resigned air.

Sydney smiled; she knew Vaughn was thinking she deserved to have that pitiable gaze turned on her.

"I have to go, sweetie, but I'll come back as soon as I can. Vaughn will stay right here with you," Sydney promised.

Vaughn smiled and nodded in agreement.

"Okay," Kelly murmured, her eyes downcast.

Sydney leaned over and hugged her.

"Good girl. I promise I'll be back."

Then she kissed her forehead, surprising Kelly. Sydney pointedly acted as if it was nothing unusual, but Vaughn waited anxiously for Kelly's reaction.

She looked up in confusion, but at least she didn't shrink away as Vaughn had expected. As if it was nothing new, Sydney walked out the door, waved back at Vaughn and Kelly, and disappeared down the hall.

Sydney barely managed to walk composedly to the briefing, she was so happy. She'd managed to form an even stronger bond with Kelly. She didn't seem to be even remotely afraid of her or Vaughn anymore.

But knowing Kelly was her daughter still scared her on several levels. First, she had a child--a three-year-old child--out of thin air. Second, she knew she had destroyed their lab. So someone must have outsmarted her, or Kelly wouldn't exist. Third, she had no idea who Kelly's father was. It could be Sark himself, for all she knew.

May be some of her questions would be answered by the heaps of files she and Harte had recovered. Chances were, though, she wouldn't like the answers she did get.

As she opened the door to the conference room, she admitted that she sure as hell would like the answers even less in front of Kendall and his two goons.

She was the last one to arrive, but that didn't bother her. DSR had probably been holed up in here for hours, and Dixon had probably dropped in as soon as he'd sent word to her. The only other person was a guy she recognized as one of the CIA's top analysts. She nodded to everyone and silently took a seat.

"This it?" she asked Dixon.

"Someone has to stay with Kelly. And I don't think we should spread this any further than necessary," Dixon added.

"Appreciated," Sydney said quickly, curious to know what they'd found. Her own perusal of the documents had been cursory at best. She sat back expectantly.

Dixon nodded once and sat, and the analyst rose to begin his presentation.

"First, my team has completed a preliminary analysis, which pretty much means compiling pertinent data, but from my understanding, there's not much chance of finding any other relevant information in a further analysis," the man said. He had a slightly wiry look, but the messy fall of his hair and blue eyes saved him from the nerd-like look of mast of the analysts. "The file lists the mother of the child, but lists no father, nor does it refer to him at all." He met Sydney's eyes, well aware of whom she was, so Sydney nodded her consent. "Sydney Bristow is listed as mother. According to the file, Miss Bristow's eggs were surgically removed approximately five years ago, with the intention of artificially joining her with Rambaldi. The eggs were destroyed, but a reference is made to another file. Somehow, intel was received that the Chosen One would be Bristow's daughter, and a reference made to an unknown prophecy. A surrogate mother--whose name is not given--was employed. The child was born, and probably stolen from her presumed mother. The rest pertains to her development--mentally, mostly--and isn't really pertinent to this…these agencies." The man shrugged, and returned to his seat.

Dixon stood and dove in immediately.

"Our goal now is one of two things, or both. One is we find the file alluded to in the file we have, or, two, we find out where they have this new prophecy, or where they got it from."

"Do we have any leads in any of those areas?" Quentin asked.

"One," Kendall said, even though Dixon shot him a look fit to kill for taking over his briefing. "One of Sark's low level operatives was apprehended last night. He revealed that Sark's source on their prophecy was a contact that he calls the Informant. Guy calls himself _Fallocieux Une_."

"Elusive One," Sydney translated. "Sounds like something Rambaldi would have used."

"Our thoughts exactly," the blue-eyed analyst spoke up. "We believe this guy is obsessed with Rambaldi himself. He most likely has some strong motive behind anything he told Sark."

"What else do we have on _Fallocieux Une_?" Harte asked.

"Not much," Dixon admitted. "Male, Rambaldi obsessed. Possibly a government agent, or was at one time, to be familiar with Rambaldi."

"And what exactly does 'government agent' entail?" Vaughn asked pointedly, obviously already aware of the scale of the answer.

"CIA, FBI, DSR, members of two or three Congresses, plus all those smaller agencies and committees the government scarcely or doesn't recognize," Dixon admitted. "Potentially a million people, including the family members of those workers that may know about things they shouldn't."

"The information this man allegedly gave was fairly current, as far as we can tell," Kendall pointed out. "My bets are on a CIA or DSR agent for this Informant.

Dixon nodded.

"Unfortunately, I have to agree. This one's close to home, folks."

* * *

Convincing Sark she should come along as part of the team hadn't taken much. She had a good deal of pull over him, she'd discovered lately.

Separating herself from the rest had been simple. As they all flew in separately, to four different area airports, she had plenty of time to meet up in the house rented for them for this mission, _after_ she'd affirmed or allayed her fears.

She'd sent a message to Jack's CIA inbox, coded in the way they'd developed while searching for Sydney when she'd disappeared. She used a new screen name; she wanted him to suspect, but not to know beyond a shadow of a doubt. _I must meet with the Informant,_ the e-mail said. She had then named an old warehouse and a time. She had ten minutes to get there and get into position. He stood no chance of outsmarting her.

* * *

Jack took nearly a minute to realize that the e-mail directed him to be at the warehouse a mere fifteen minutes after it had been sent. The code, the MO, it had to be Irina. But Irina wasn't working with the Calling. And Irina had no way of knowing he was Sark's source, even if she _was_.

He'd just have to see. It was most likely a trap, but he had no choice. Ignoring the e-mail would most likely be more dangerous than knowingly walking into a trap.

Jack was already fifteen minutes late when he arrived at the warehouse, but he took the time to circle the outside of the building anyway, gun in hand. There was no sign of anyone. May be his contact had already left. Then again, may be that was exactly what they wanted him to think.

He dodged into the dim space with his gun leveled, searching for a target, but he didn't see anyone, nor was he mauled, so he lowered it. There were numerous boxes and crates a good spy could use as cover. He had no choice but to wait for the other person to make their move.

The next thing Jack knew, Irina was to his right, her feet spread wide and both hands on the gun she leveled against his temple.

"Jack."

Jack remained silent. He knew from experience that Irina would say what she wanted to when she wanted to, when she wanted to, and not a moment before. Conversation wasn't her style.

"Jack, there was a time when you would have liked nothing more than to kill me. Do you remember that, Jack?" she asked, a maniacal smile curling at her lips.

"Quite well," Jack said dryly.

"Now, Jack, I can understand how you felt. I'd like nothing more than to kill you right now, you son of a bitch. But if I do that, you won't get the chance to trip over yourself and get caught."

Jack felt the gun press more firmly against his head.

"I know what you're thinking, Jack," she continued. "And if you do anything to hurt Sydney, I _will _kill you."

Jack was sure she was going to just leave now, but she surprised him.

"Drop your gun, and kick it away."

He did.

"Down on your knees, hands in the air."

Only the quiet click of the door signaled her departure several minutes later.

* * *

Yay! Go Irina! Ya just gotta love Irina championing Sydney again. And having her warn Jack that she knows _exactly what_ he's doing, well, that's just funny!


	14. Valuable Control

Chapter 14: Valuable Control

Disclaimer: Nope, it's not mine.

* * *

Gunfire erupted in the main wing of the CIA building, so much so that Sydney and Vaughn heard it all the way in the cell wing. The people taking the brunt of the attack were surely desk agents, unarmed against intruders. 

Sydney and Vaughn's gazes connected, and both of them sprang for the door together.

"Quentin, Harte!" Sydney yelled as they ran by. "Get in there with Kelly! They're coming after her!" Panic laced her voice.

Several other agents with guns had already reached the intrusion. Two of the black masked agents dropped as they watched.

Gunfire blasted for nearly thirty minutes, both sides being wounded in the process. Finally, the leader--or so it appeared--ordered them to pull back.

Slowly, Sydney's head cleared and her ears quit ringing. And she realized that the others had had the upper hand before they'd backed off.

"Vaughn!" Sydney cried, panicked fully now. "Kelly! They're going after Kelly still! It was a distraction!"

* * *

Irina stripped off her black ski mask as she sprinted toward the van Sark would be waiting in for the man he'd sent after Kelly. All the other man had left in the unmarked white vans already, and they all thought she was with them. It would be a while before they realized she wasn't in one of the six vans. 

Jack wouldn't be far behind Kelly. And she'd be waiting for him. Oh, yes, he'd know _exactly_ what hit him, the bastard.

She heard her man before she saw him. Or, rather, she heard Kelly. The child was screaming and crying, probably immensely traumatized already. Then she heard Jack.

"Put her down."

The man froze. Jack jabbed him in the back with the muzzle of his gun.

"I said out her down."

The man, seeing no other option with the child struggling in her arms, moved to comply.

At the same time Kelly's feet touched the floor, Jack swung an elbow and hit the man square in the head. He hit the floor, and Jack snatched up Kelly, his arm around her waist pinning her arms to her sides.

Irina took up her shooting stance and stepped out from behind the huge concrete pillar of the parking garage. She pointed her gun directly between Jack's eyes. She saw Kelly's eyes go wide, but she had no choice.

"_You_ put her down, Jack," she said quietly.

He did. Irina, never taking her eyes off of Jack, manacled Kelly's wrist before she could try to run and jerked her behind her, for her own sake.

"Turn around, Jack."

He did. Jack expected her to give him instructions to get down on his knees, but she didn't. just as he began to wonder if she was still there--Kelly had frozen into terrified silence at the sight of the gun--he saw bright stars dance in front of his eyes.

Okay, Irina admitted. She hit him a little harder than necessary. But she _had_ warned him, after all. He was lucky she didn't do worse.

Irina admitted. She hit him a little harder than necessary. But she warned him, after all. He was lucky she didn't do worse. 

She holstered her gun, then turned and scooped up Kelly.

"It's okay, baby," she whispered as she held her tight and jogged toward the opposite end of the parking garage from where Sark waited. She'd arranged for a car to be left there.

"It's okay," she murmured. "I'm going to take you back to your mommy."

"My mommy?" Kelly asked in surprise.

Irina had done some creative hacking the night before. The CIA's tests had proven Sydney's motherhood. So, either Sydney didn't know, or they'd managed to keep her from telling Kelly. Too late now.

"Your mommy," Irina assured. "Did you know Sydney was your mommy?"

"Sydney?" Kelly stayed obediently in the passenger seat of the nondescript blue sedan when Irina put her there.

"That's right. But we can't go right back, because those bad men might wake up and try to stop us. Okay?"

Kelly considered it for a moment.

"Okay," she said.

Irina smiled. She could no longer love the man that would take his daughter's child away in the name of Rambaldi--apparently their marriage had been a sham all the way around--but she could easily come to love this child.

Her grandchild, she realized as she backed out of the parking space.

* * *

Sydney saw Harte and Quentin sprawled on the floor, and she just crumpled. Vaughn barely managed to catch her before she hit the floor. 

"She's gone!" Sydney sobbed.

Vaughn held her close and rocked gently, and just let her cry.

"We'll get her back," he promised.

"She didn't even know she was mine!"

"Syd, we'll get her back, and you can tell her, and…"

Vaughn stopped, but Sydney didn't notice. He'd almost said _and we'll take care of her._ But that meant something more that he was capable of. Sure, he'd thought about marriage a few times. He loved her, no question. But since Lauren, marriage just felt like a lie to him.

Didn't it?

"Vaughn?" Sydney's voice broke him out of the reverie he'd been in. "Vaughn, I'm okay now, you can let me go." She eased out of his grasp.

He'd been oblivious that long?

"You sure? We'll find her, Syd."

Sydney wiped at her eyes, which looked calm despite being red-rimmed.

"I know we'll find her," she snapped. "Let's go find her _now_."

Vaughn stood quickly and gestured to Harte and Quentin.

"We have to do something with them first," he pointed out.

Sydney knelt next to Harte and felt for a pulse.

"He's still breathing," she said. "What about him?"

"Quentin? He'll live," Vaughn responded.

"Then we'll send someone after them," Sydney said, pretending to be unconcerned. But Vaughn saw through it to the barely controlled fear lurking just below the surface.

"Come on, Syd," he said, putting his arm around her. "You need a break."

"No, Vaughn!" She pulled away. "I don't need a break!" Tears pooled in her eyes. "I need to find my child!"

Vaughn grabbed her hands, then ran his hands up her arms until he had her by the shoulders.

"Syd, you can't do this alone, and you can't do it all. You have to let me help," he said.

Sydney forced herself to regain valuable control.

"Okay," she agreed. "You take over."

* * *

Kelly looked around with a distance that she'd practiced for a long time. The lady seemed nice enough. She wasn't sure she believed her about Sydney, but she was okay. She kinda looked like Sydney, too. May be she was Sydney's mommy. 

And if Sydney was her mommy, may be Michael Vaughn was her daddy. It would be nice to have a mommy and a daddy.

Irina brought Kelly into the hotel room she'd rented after she'd threatened Jack's life, pulling her along by her hand. No one would think anything of her having a child now; she'd played the part of harried grandmother visiting her daughter for a few days, but daughter hasn't settled in real well yet so I nee a hotel room quite well, if she did say so herself.

There were some children's books and an electronic game setting on one bed.

"Kelly, you can play with those if you want to," Irina offered. "I need to call your mommy and arrange to take you back to her."

Kelly climbed onto the bed to look at her new toys.

"Do I have a daddy?" she asked suddenly.

Irina looked up, stopped in the middle of digging through a bag for a secured cell phone.

"Sure, honey, you have a daddy. Everybody has a daddy somewhere," she said carefully.

"Where's my daddy?"

Irina knew. Or, she suspected. No one had ever cared to check. They'd all believed that doctor she'd met only once when he said Sark was the father, just as ordered. And she knew he was lying through his teeth. But that was something she had to explain to Sydney first.

"You'll have to ask your mommy sweetie. That's not something I can tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because your mommy wouldn't want me to tell you. I don't want to make her mad at me."

"But you took me. Sydney will be mad that you didn't bring me back right away," Kelly expertly pointed out.

"I told you, honey, the bad men might have tried to stop us." Irina resumed her search of the large tote bag in her lap. "Now, you can play with your toys or look at the books, while I call Sydney, okay?"

Kelly shrugged.

"Okay. But she's gonna be mad."

Irina winced. Sydney would be mad, all right. She'd probably assume Irina had something to do with it in the first place. Which she had, but only because she'd been waiting for the right time to take off with Kelly.

Sark would know, now, that Irina had been responsible for Kelly not being returned to him as planned. He'd assume she'd been the one to take out both Jack and his man, once he realized she wasn't with the others. But, she thought with a smile, she knew more ways to be invisible than Sark could ever dream of.

* * *

Now, this is going to be good! This is getting to the end, but I think I still have five chapters after this, so it's not really _that_ close to the end…I just have to fit a lot of information into these chapters, so it's kind of a whirl wind finale! 


	15. Fast Russian

Chapter 15: Fast Russian

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Sorry!

* * *

Sydney snatched up her cell phone with more irritation than Vaughn had thought humanly possible without breaking the phone. She hated the damn things; they rang at the worst possible times.

"Bristow," she said crisply.

"Sydney. I need to talk to you."

Sydney froze for a split second, then resumed normal motion. Who knew whose side her mother might be on?

"I don't think that's possible," she commented. "I'm busy right now."

"I know. I can help you find the answers you're looking for," Irina promised.

"Now is not a good time." She had to wrap this up. Vaughn was giving her a questioning look.

"Now is the best possible time. Meet me on top of the building in two hours. Come alone, Sydney, or I'll have to leave. You don't want that."

"Who was that?" Vaughn asked as Sydney replaced the phone to its place, clipped to her belt.

"A friend," Sydney said after a moment of hesitation. "She wanted me to meet her for lunch. Of course, I couldn't tell her just _how_ busy I am."

"Of course," Vaughn said warily. "This friend. Have I met her? I didn't think you'd had time lately to get too friendly with people outside the agency."

"She's an old friend," Sydney evaded. "Someone I knew when I was a kid. I run into her now and then." None of which was really a lie.

"How long has she had your cell number? That's a CIA issue phone," Vaughn reminded.

"Vaughn." She forced a smile. "I can take care of myself. Probably better than you could."

Vaughn smiled back, but he couldn't trust her. Something she didn't want him to know about was going down, and he wasn't sure she was up to handling it alone.

* * *

"Where are we going now?"

The ceaseless questions! She's forgotten. Sydney had been just as inquisitive as a child. Irina grinned. She might just enjoy having Kelly around a little too much.

"We're going to meet Sydney."

Irina had Kelly by the hand again, and Kelly didn't seem to mind. In fact, the child had surprised her by her agreeableness. Her hacking had also revealed psychological reports that suggested Kelly had been unbalanced after Sark's first attempt, almost paranoid in her distrust.

Irina took it that Kelly only trusted her because she wasn't Sark, and hadn't taken her to Sark.

Kelly felt as drawn to Irina on the same level as she felt drawn to Sydney and Michael Vaughn. She felt like she belonged there. But she still missed Sydney and Vaughn.

"Does Sydney know I'm with you?" Kelly asked the woman.

"Sydney's not really sure where you are, sweetie. That's why we have to go see her." Irina had reverted to referring to her daughter by name, since Kelly persistently referred to her that way.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Irina." She decided to leave it up to Sydney to tell her the rest. If she would.

A retractable climbing rope capable of towing 300 pounds solved the problem of how to get onto the CIA building. Strapping herself and Kelly into harnesses that were designed to hook together, Irina hooked one end of the rope to the top of the building several stories above and the other end to her harness, and they began to rise to the top.

Kelly whimpered at first, but Irina put her arms around her protectively.

"It's okay, sweetheart. We're perfectly safe," she promised.

* * *

Sydney left the group working to find Kelly--which had now been joined by the effusively apologetic and now conscious Quentin and Harte--alone, claiming to need a few minutes to herself. She left in one direction, but doubled back the first chance she got and went toward the elevators. She got out on the top floor, instead of on the roof, on the off chance that someone had followed her. Vaughn had acted suspicious, she acknowledged as she jogged up the final flight of stairs.

The roof was deserted when she stepped out of the door--which stuck--at the top of the stairs. A breeze blew lightly, but unlike on the street below there was no debris to tumble along like city tumbleweeds. If not for the pretentious meeting about to take place, it would be a most refreshing spot.

Irina appeared out of nowhere, standing amongst a slew of ventilation ducts. One hand was behind her back, no doubt on a gun. Sydney could almost feel happy to see her mother again if the woman wasn't so damn unpredictable. Sydney put her hand near her own gun.

Then her mother stepped away from the cover of the ducts, bringing her hand from behind her, and towing Kelly along with her.

Sydney knew several moments of unutterable dread.

Kelly looked up at Irina and said something Sydney couldn't hear at that distance, with the wind hissing in her ears. Irina nodded, never taking her eyes off of Sydney.

Then Kelly came running. Irina just let her go, didn't even try to stop her. Sydney couldn't help but assume it was a trick. But then Sydney was on her knees and Kelly in her arms, and she forgot for a moment that her mother had somehow wound up with Kelly. And Kelly had been kidnapped.

Sydney hugged Kelly, then moved her aside--out of harm's way--and looked back to her mother expectantly.

Irina shook her head, a soft smile on her face.

"I'm unarmed," she offered, strolling leisurely closer. "Kelly wouldn't have trusted me if I'd been armed still."

"What are you doing with her?" Sydney demanded.

"I saved her," Irina responded. "Have you seen Jack since he followed Sark's man out?" she asked, watching carefully for Sydney's reaction.

Sydney stiffened.

"He and the man were knocked out by a third party," she snapped disdainfully. "He didn't see who hit him."

"He sure as hell did,"Irina growled before she could catch herself. "I warned him beforehand that I'd kill him if he was a part of this."

"A part of what?" Sydney snarled back. "Are _you_ a part of _this_, too?"

Irina, now back in control, shook her head gently.

"Not the way you mean," she said. "I can explain everything, Sydney, but I don't think this is the time." She glanced pointedly at Kelly.

Sydney paused for a moment, then shook her head.

"There's nowhere I can take her," she protested.

"Okay," Irina murmured. "If that's how you feel. We might as well do this all in one fell swoop." She turned slightly to project her voice toward the door Sydney had exited from. "Care to join us, Agent Vaughn?"

After a pause, Sydney turned to see the door--which was open just a crack--swing open, and Vaughn emerge, palming, then holstering, his gun at the same time.

"How long have you been there?" Sydney demanded.

Vaughn glared at Irina a moment before he answered.

"Only a few minutes," he relented finally. "You can't hide from me." He shrugged. "I only planned to be there in case you needed backup."

Kelly tore out of Sydney's grip and launched herself at Vaughn, who barely caught her.

"Hi!" she giggled.

Vaughn smiled.

"Hi, yourself, kiddo. You okay?"

"Uh-huh. Irina saved me. See? She brought me back," Kelly added when he frowned.

Vaughn looked up at Irina, keeping Kelly's hand in his as he set her on her feet.

"Thank you," he said grudgingly. "Care to explain how it came about?"

Sydney looked at Kelly, then at Vaughn.

"We were just getting to that, I think," she began. "But Kelly really shouldn't..."

"I'm not going anywhere," he said quickly.

Irina sighed.

"Kelly doesn't speak Russian," she relented in Russian. She looked from Sydney to Vaughn. "Does he?"

"Aa," he responded.

So they switched to Russian.

"Five years ago, Sydney, when the Covenant captured you, they discovered what they termed a problem. Sydney, you were pregnant. A week, may be two, along."

Sydney gasped and might have dropped to the nearest sitting place--in this case the concrete rooftop--but she felt Vaughn slip his arms around her waist. She leaned on him gratefully, and looked expectantly at her mother.

"Most of the operatives thought it would be best to simply terminate the pregnancy, but someone, I don't know who, opted to preserve the zygote, in the same way they preserve gametes in _in vitro_ fertilization. When you destroyed their lab, the zygote was in a freezer a thousand miles away."

Shock overrode all thought. Vaughn and Sydney listened paralyzed, only vaguely aware that Kelly cast them an occasional annoyed look because she couldn't understand them.

"Sark was informed by a source, after he escaped custody, that your _child_, not you, would be the Chosen One. Sark located the preserved zygote, implanted it in a surrogate mother--I never found her name--and, I assume, stole the child when she was born."

Irina paused, giving her audience a moment to soak it all up. Kelly looked ready to wander off any second, so Irina picked her up and settled her on her hip as if she'd done it for years.

"I contacted Sark and joined the Calling because I found out part of what he'd done, "she continued, still in fast Russian. "I planned from the very start to take her from him. Then I learned of the mysterious contact Sark just call the Informant, but he called himself _Fallocieux Une_. I traced him, Sydney, and-" She stopped to collect her thoughts. "Sydney, your father did go after the Calling's operative, with the intent of taking Kelly form him, but he had no intention of returning her to you. Jack in the Informant, Sydney."

Sydney and Vaughn, the former leaning heavily against the latter, didn't move or speak for several long minutes.

"Then Kelly...has to be..." Sydney began haltingly in English now.

"Mine," Vaughn finished, a confused panic filling his voice and eyes.

Kelly whispered something in Irina's ear. She broke out in a wide grin that was both uncharacteristic and completely inappropriate under the circumstances.

Vaughn glared at her, but Irina continued to smile. She set Kelly on her feet, facing Vaughn and Sydney and kneeled down to whisper in her ear, intentionally loud enough for the rest to hear.

"Yes, sweetie, they're your mommy and your daddy."

Irina could have laughed at Vaughn's reaction to the word. He paled even more, so that his bright green eyes seemed like orbs of light. His arms dropped to his side, and Sydney stepped away to stand beside him.

Kelly stood for a moment, obviously unsure how to proceed now. Sydney saw that, and she smiled and held out her arms.

"My baby," she murmured, pulling Kelly into a bone-crushing hug.

After a few moments, Vaughn was in the middle of the fray, too, still so filled with terrified awe that he couldn't speak. Something else bubbled just below that awe, something that made him feel like he'd do anything to keep the two people he held close to him.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Irina said sadly. "But you realize Kelly can't stay with you now. Sark will be--" She stopped, then switched to Russian. "Sark will be furious. He'll know I have her, and when he can't find me, he'll look at you. I can hide her. You two can't stay here where you're needed and still hide her."

"You're not taking her away from me," Sydney said in Russian. She said it matter-of-factly, but so quickly that Vaughn had trouble following her.

"Like hell you're taking her!" Vaughn bit out fiercely, though it lost much of its effect with his less than rapid Russian.

Sydney stared down Irina, until finally she wavered.

"Kelly, honey," she said softly. "Would you like staying with-" She looked up at her own mother. "Does she know?"

Irina shook her head.

"Honey, Irina is your grandmother. Would you like to spend a few days with her?" Sydney asked, forcing a smile.

Kelly looked up at Irina.

"How come you didn't tell me that?" she asked.

"Because I figured Sydney would want to tell you herself," she said without missing a beat. "So how about it?"

Vaughn pressed close to where Sydney keeled by Kelly, and Sydney could practically _feel_ him demanding to know why she was doing this.

"I want to stay with you," Kelly pleaded, pouting a little.

"You'll get to, honey, I just have to take care of some things first. It'll only be a few days, I promise," Sydney assured.

Kelly sniffed pitifully. Sydney doubted _that_ was a learned habit. May be it was just engrained I toddlers.

"Okay," she mumbled miserably.

* * *

Kelly is finding out everything now! See, I like this idea a lot better. Instead of a twenty-something woman finding out her parents are frauds, yada yada yada, we have here a three year old that is traumatized, but nonetheless she just goes _oh she's my mommy he's my daddy? _and goes on with her life. I am required to use so much _less _angst this way! Plus, Kelly is, in my opinion, well portrayed as a person. Isn't she? Because that's an important aspect of this fic and my writing, is Kelly being a person. I got that, right? Lemme know what you think! 


	16. Everything

"I'm a spy, remember? It doesn't matter if I'm okay."

Chapter 16: Everything

Disclaimer: Vaughn and Syd and Jack and Irina and Dixon and Sark and any other recognizable characters in this fic belong solely to JJ and do not in any way shape or form belong to me.

* * *

Sark fumed, and would have stormed around the plane if it hadn't been a commercial jet and a rough flight anyway. 

_"Damn _her! He'd known better. He'd been an idiot. That damn woman had caused more chaos and pulled off more double--and triple--crosses than anyone he'd ever met. She was unbeatable, and utterly untrustworthy.

She had Kelly. There was no doubt in his mind that she had her.

And he'd been stupid enough to let her contact the Informant. She'd been planning this all along, and the Informant had given her the perfect opportunity. Hell, she probably knew who the Informant was. _They_ might even be in league, for all he knew.

But he'd find her. He'd comb that whole damn city if he had to, after he left a trail _out _of the city, and he'd get Kelly back, and he'd kill Derevko.

* * *

Sydney and Vaughn huddled in an empty office that had been utilized as a storage closet on the top floor. Vaughn's fury seemed to fill the limited space, suffocating them. 

"What in the _hell_ did you trust her with our daughter for?!?" he demanded in a harsh whisper, fearful of being overheard.

"I had no choice, Vaughn! We bring Kelly back here now or tell anyone anything my mother said, and we implement her. I believe what she said about Sark, and Kelly, and even Dad. So we can't say _anything_. We have to direct them toward the information somehow. Until then, it's not safe for Kelly."

Vaughn huffed out an annoyed breath.

"I want to confront your father. Find out why he lied. He knows that you were the one referred to, that we interfered with that. It's almost as if he has another prophecy or something."

Sydney stared, suddenly realizing how much sense that made.

"_Damn_ it! Syd, I'm sorry, I didn't…" Vaughn rushed to explain, thinking Sydney was staring because she couldn't believe his asinine statement.

"No, no, it just makes sense," she broke in, the light still flickering. "It would explain so much. Hell, I could see him keeping something like this from the CIA for years. Oh, shit. That could be true. He could have known something like this for _years_. Vaughn, he could have…" She froze. "SAB47," she muttered, talking to herself now more than Vaughn. "That's got to be it. He found a prophecy, and he controlled my whole life. He used the damn _CIA_ to do it!" she growled.

"Shh, shh," Vaughn whispered, putting his arms around her. "It's okay."

That's when Sydney realized she was crying. Angry now, she pushed away from Vaughn.

"No, no, I'm fine." She brushed at her eyes impatiently. "We've got work to do. We don't have long. My mother can't stay in LA indefinitely, or Sark will find her."

Sydney started to leave, but Vaughn put a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you sure you're okay, Syd?" he asked.

Sydney stopped, and her breath caught, just a little hitch. But she recovered quickly and gave him a half smile.

"I'm a spy, remember? It doesn't matter if I'm okay. They'll all think I am," she reminded.

Vaughn studied her face for a long time.

"Don't forget, I'm here, too," he said finally.

She smiled, and leaned up and kissed him.

"I won't forget. I'd never forget about you," she murmured.

Then she opened the door and merged back in with the rest of the CIA.

* * *

"The other file," Sydney told Dixon, after hours of phone calls to a dozen contacts. "Is a file belonging to the doctor Sark used for…the work he did. Dr. Eugene Reeves, in Geneva. The file is in his office in a safe." 

"We have an agent in Geneva that is on standby right now," Dixon said, glancing toward his closed door, where he could see several agents working. "I'll get him on it, and we'll have the file in about twelve hours."

Sydney nodded.

"From what I can get, the file should reveal the DNA sequence of the father, if nothing else, as well as the conditions of the…pregnancy," Sydney said.

Dixon nodded.

"Good. Hopefully we can get all this cleared up soon."

Sydney nodded. Business out of the way, she asked," Have you seen Vaughn?"

Dixon gave her a speculative look, then tried to hide a grin.

"He left an hour ago. You've both been here nonstop for days. You're welcomed to take off for a while. In fact, I strongly recommend it." He walked around his desk to get a closer look at her. "You need a break, Syd. Take a few hours."

Sydney shook her head.

"You know I can't do that. Kelly is my priority right now." She only felt slightly guilty about not telling Dixon the truth. It was better for him not to know.

"Take it easy, Syd, "Dixon advised. "Keep this up much longer and you won't be worth much when we get Kelly back."

She nodded vaguely before leaving the office. She didn't know which to worry about more: why Vaughn had left without telling her, or what he was doing.

Sydney shook her head. It worried her, but she pushed it aside. She had more urgent matters to think about.

She'd already decided confronting her father might be the only way of protecting her daughter. She had to find out what her father had done, and fix it.

A quick phone call, and her father would, without question, meet her in the parking garage. No one would be there this time of day, except may be Vaughn. And he'd be smart enough not to show himself.

Jack had only to take one look at his daughter's face, even in the dim parking garage, to see he was in trouble. He moved silently to stand in front of her.

"Dad," Sydney said fiercely. "What happened today? What are you not telling me?"

"Just as I told Dixon, Sydney, I didn't see who hit me," Jack said. "What is this about?"

"Don't give me that bullshit!" Sydney yelled. "I want to know what the hell your game is, because I'm tired of it! You will not control my life any more!"

"Sydney, what…"

"SAB47! This is all part of that, isn't it?!? Where's the prophecy, Dad? Where's the god damn prophecy that led you to hand me over to the Covenant five years ago?!?" Sydney saw the crack in Jack's composure. She'd managed to shock him into a reaction, however small.

Knowing he was screwed, Jack opted for pieces of the truth.

"SAB47 was designed to keep you safe. You are the Chosen One, Sydney. The prophecy the CIA has is just the beginning."

"How could you think I'd just give up my _child…_"

"You weren't supposed to know…"

"You set me up…"

"I _protected_ you…"

The shouting match continued to grow louder.

"You let them take my _child!"_

"I preserved what was meant to be!"

"You know who the father is!"

"Sark is part of the prophecy!"

Sydney froze, her mouth wide open with another shouted accusation.

"Enough!" Vaughn shouted loudly, appearing from between two cars and effectively covering Sydney's shock. He grabbed Sydney by the arm, giving Jack an acrimonious glare. "We don't have time for this." He pulled Sydney toward his car.

So much for the elated frame of mind he'd achieved during his two hour hiatus. He'd finally made a decision, took action to cement his and Sydney's happiness, but he realized angrily that this wasn't the time for happiness. This was a time for hard work, to procure a safe environment for Kelly.

"Where are we going?" Sydney asked softly as Vaughn opened the car door for her.

"Anywhere but here," he responded.

"Vaughn," she said once he'd gotten in the car. "When he said Sark is part of the prophecy…he couldn't mean what it sounds like, could he?"

"It sounds like he believes Sark is Kelly's father," Vaughn said. "But Syd, your mother is really in a better position to know the truth than Jack is."

"I hope so," she murmured. "I guess we're waiting for…oh, wait, you don't know about that." Her eyes narrowed. "Vaughn, where did you go? You knew where I was. You could have at least let me know you were leaving."

"I just had…I just had to get away for a little while," he amended. It was true; he had needed a little time away. That just hadn't taken up the bulk of his break.

"Vaughn, don't lie to me. This is exactly what bothers me so much, "she said, her voice a tiny bit shaky. "You _asked _me to lean on you, Vaughn, and you weren't even here when I needed you."

"Syd, I'm sorry." He wanted to say so much more, but he reminded himself this wasn't the time. "You're right. But I'm here now. Tell me what I missed."

Sydney sighed.

"I found the doctor Sark employed for the procedure. The file referred to in the documents Harte and I recovered is in his office. Dixon has an agent retrieving it. It should confirm the DNA sequence of the father, and hopefully somehow explain why my father believes Sark is Kelly's father."

"Great. How long?"

"Dixon said twelve hours."

"May be that'll help up get Sark to give up on getting Kelly."

"I doubt it."

Vaughn didn't respond, mainly because he felt the same way. Eh drove aimlessly, going anywhere but back to the CIA, just as he'd said. They rode in silence, but it was a reflective, comfortable silence.

Before either of them knew it, they'd driven out of the city into the suburbs, then on into the country. Not farm country like you'd find in a Southern city, but vast oil fields and deserted roads all the same. Vaughn pulled to the side of the road when he realized how far they'd gone.

Sydney emerged from her own haze as the car slowed.

"Where are we?" she asked disinterestedly.

Vaughn shrugged.

"Somewhere outside of LA," he said.

"Let's get out for a minute," Sydney suggested after a few moments. "We're both tired. If we stay like this much longer, we won't get back to LA tonight."

So they got out and began walking along the deserted road a little ways.

"Do you want me to drive back?" Sydney asked.

Vaughn shook his head. They walked a few more lazy paces, then Sydney spoke again.

"Are you okay? You seem distracted."

Vaughn heaved a heavy sigh, then surprised Sydney by turning and grasping both of her hands in his.

"Marry me, Sydney," he said quickly.

Sydney gasped.

"Vaughn, I don't…I just…"

"Really, Sydney, marry me!" He pulled a ring box from his pocket to reveal a simple teardrop diamond set in an embossed gold band. "Sydney, this is where I went today. I love you. Please marry me. Say something!" he added when Sydney just stared at him.

"But…Kelly…she's mine, I…"

"I don't care!" He laughed. "I mean, I _care_, but I love her, too, even if she's not really mine. We could be a family, Sydney. _I love you."_

Slowly, a smile crept across Sydney's face until Vaughn could have screamed. He wanted to hear her say it. Here he was, offering her everything she wanted, family, a life, the guarantee that they'd be there for each other. She couldn't turn him down. He grasped the ring box a little tighter. _Could she?_

"Yes!" Sydney finally cried, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him until he couldn't breathe. He hugged her back, all the doubt and worry gone, and he grinned like crazy.

Finally he disentangled himself from her and took her hand again. Sydney laughed and smiled as he slid the ring on her finger.

"I love it," she said when he asked her what she thought of the ring. "It's me. You knew I wouldn't like anything gaudy. I love you," she added in a murmur as she wrapped her arms around him again.

"Now," Vaughn said several minutes later. "Let's go get the bastards trying to steal our little girl."

* * *

I couldn't help myself. I _had_ to do it. Come on, we all know that the ideal fourth season ends up with them married, or at least engaged! If the show keeps up long enough, they _have_ to go there sooner or later! 


	17. Finish That Later

Chapter 17: Finish That Later

Disclaimer: Alias isn't mine. Most of the stuff in this fic isn't mine. But a gal can dream! The plot is ALL mine though!

* * *

Dixon paced his office like a caged lion. He wished for company, but he'd sent all of the agents who'd been working around the clock for the past few days home with definite orders not to come back until morning. He himself had stayed only to receive the file that would be arriving from Agent Fernando in Geneva, then he would go home. 

A noise in the hall caught his attention. Voices, a good distance away. Who the hell? If it was any of his agents, he'd lock them up, damn it.

He stepped in the hall, fully prepared to threaten to fire some people when Sydney and Vaughn stepped around the corner.

Dixon frowned. Of all the people, these were the two he'd least expected to see before noon the next day. Hell, half the reason he'd even bothered to send them home, too, was because he'd known about Vaughn's planned proposal, and he'd thought they might want a little time to themselves.

Sydney just smiled.

"You said twelve hours," she reminded. "That file should be here any minute."

"I told you to go home," Dixon growled.

Sydney looked to Vaughn.

"Depending on what's in that file, we may have a report on the Calling's source of information," Vaughn said carefully.

Dixon sighed resolutely.

"Fine," he said. "I can see you two aren't going to explain yourselves. You might as well come in here and wait." He walked back into his office.

The clandestine messenger brought the file not five minutes after Sydney and Vaughn showed up. The three of them tore into the contents. Sydney sifted through the pages, as she had more of an idea of what she was looking for than either of the men.

"Oh my God," she murmured.

Vaughn looked over her shoulder at the paper that not only showed his DNA sequence, but a lot more. The doctor had known everything about him. But there was a note at the bottom of the page stating that Sark believed himself to be the father.

Sydney looked at Vaughn.

"He _assumed_ it was true, because Sark _believed_ it was true," she said.

Vaughn just nodded. Dixon looked annoyed.

"Dixon, the man that fed Sark information, that, for some twisted reason, believed Sark was supposed to father Kelly, was _my_ father," Sydney said after a moment.

Dixon now adopted a stunned expression.

"What the hell…"

"There was some prophecy, something, before I was even born. _That_ led to SAB47. My father controlled my life based on some prophecy, using the government. He believes Sark is somehow part of the prophecy as Kelly's father." Sydney handed the sheet over to Dixon. "Obviously, that's not the case, but Sark believes it is, too."

"What do we do with this?" Dixon asked.

Sydney shook her head.

"I don't care. Do what you see fit. For once in my life, I trust my mother more than I do my father." Then she explained what her mother had told her. "It wasn't the Calling that rendered my father unconscious, it was my mother. After all she did, I believe Kelly is safe with her."

Vaughn backed her up.

"Kelly is safe for now. But we have to neutralize the threat to her. I believe the only way to do that is to convince Sark of the truth. Kelly is not the powerful Rambaldi child he believes her to be, and she doesn't even possess the elements he believes necessary to create that child."

Dixon looked thoughtful, then he nodded.

"You'll both leave as soon as we locate Sark."

* * *

Irina smiled at the sight of Kelly sprawled on the hotel bed with a teddy bear, watching TV. It was as if telling her she had a mother and a father had transformed her into a normal child. She looked happy and almost carefree. 

Almost. Kelly was still worried that Sark might try to get her. Anyone could see it the fear was in her eyes, all the time. Irina knew she'd played a part in putting that fear there. That she'd known, and she'd let Sark torture her. But another part of her kept saying she'd had no choice; she'd had to wait until it was safe.

Sark had almost caught up with them that morning. Irina had moved fast, once she'd recognized the threat, but she'd known a few minutes of fear like she'd never known before. It had been way too close. She'd seen Sark's team through the window from the car she'd secured. The only thing that kept her from careening out of the parking lot was the knowledge that, two floors up and through the tinted windows of the car, none of them could see her or Kelly.

They were safe now, though, for a few hours. After that, they'd go to another hotel, to give them a trail to follow. Then may be she'd take Kelly to a safe house for the night. She had a contact in the area who ran a good safe house, and, for the right price, he was very reliable. He wouldn't say he'd ever seen her before, should Sark track him down. It shouldn't be long before Sydney would be ready to take Kelly. Yes, the safe house might be just the place to go.

* * *

Sark was easy to find, as Sydney had known he would be. Dixon, and even Vaughn, was surprised to find out he himself was still in LA. That, at least, reassured Vaughn that his daughter was still in LA. He was, by all accounts, holed up in a hotel on the north side of town, due to an injury that made him unfit to be doing active searching. Vaughn thought grimly that at least Sark should be easy to catch. 

Sydney and Vaughn, sans any disguise, approached the hotel in broad daylight. Thinking himself invincible, he had only a couple of guards outside his suit. They hit the floor before they knew anyone else was even there. With the master key that had conveniently gone missing from the front desk, they entered to face Sark.

Sark was sitting on a couch in the elegant room, across from a coffee table, and talking on a cell phone. Assuming only his guards had a key, he didn't even turn around.

"Find he, damn it!" he said in a hushed voice. "I will not allow Derevko to take off with that child! And I still want to know how fifty other operatives didn't notice her leaving the group, damn it!"

"Lose something?" Sydney asked, standing right behind him now. When he turned his head, the flat of her hand connected solidly with his jaw.

Before Sark had recovered from that, Vaughn appeared in front of him and shoved him face-first in to the coffee table and held him there. Sydney stepped into his line of sight with her gun trained on him.

"Don't move," she warned.

Vaughn pressed Sark's face a little harder into the wooden table.

"Your Informant," Vaughn said. "Is a joke. Everything he's told you has been a lie, organized to help him fulfill his own agenda."

"Oh, really?" Sark said indifferently. "You have him in custody, then? I'm quite curious to as to his identity, myself."

Vaughn put a little more pressure on Sark's head.

"Kelly isn't your child, you know. She's mine. Ask your doctor friend. He knows. He's missing his file now, though."

Sydney moved a little closer, for effect.

"Where's my daughter, Sark?" she asked dangerously. After all, Sark didn't need to know Irina Derevko was in contact with her.

"I don't have her," Sark snapped through clenched teeth.

"I didn't ask if you had her. I asked where she is."

"I don't know! Your mother has her!"

Sydney didn't flinch.

"And where is _she_?"

Sark remained silent. Sydney cracked him on the head with the butt of her gun, and Vaughn winced as she just missed _him_.

"Answer me."

"I traced her to a hotel this morning," he growled. "My men lost her."

Sydney nodded, and Sark saw stars. Vaughn rose to his feet and let him slump to the floor, his head hitting the thin carpet with a dull _thud_.

"What was all that about?" Vaughn asked cautiously.

Sydney shrugged as they moved toward the door.

"I haven't been in touch with my mother yet. I had to make sure she was staying out of harm's way."

Vaughn nodded thoughtfully.

"Good idea. You do know how to contact her, right?" he asked.

"Of course I do." They stepped into the hallway, and Sydney lowered her voice. "The way to contact her has been the same for five years."

"You weren't here for two of those," he reminded.

"My _point_ is that I know how to contact her, but, as I'm _sure _she proved with my father, with the right software, each contact is an increased risk. If Sark managed to intercept the signal, he might be able to locate her."

Vaughn just smiled.

"What?" Sydney snapped.

"Oh…nothing."

"No, _what_?"

"I just…your eyes flash when you're mad."

Sydney huffed out a frustrated breath.

"This isn't the time," she said haughtily, but a smile tugged at her mouth, belying her speech.

"Of course."

They walked out of the hotel and got into their dark CIA supplied car. Sydney got into the driver's seat, keys in hand, but before she could start the engine, Vaughn reached over and betted the keys out of her unsuspecting hand.

"Hey…"

"Not time for this my ass," Vaughn teased as he pulled her across the seat and into a soul-searing kiss. As abruptly as he'd begun the kiss, he released her, and for a few seconds al you could hear was heavy breathing. Then Sydney laughed.

"Is that a promise?"

"Huh?"

"You're gonna finish that later, buddy," she said, her voice a little husky as she leaned down to pick up the keys.

* * *

Hehe! Okay, ya gotta love that, right? A little Sark bashing, a little making out, come on, it's S/V! Okay, yeah, it's getting a _little _fluffy, but all fluff isn't bad! Review, please, only one more chapter to go! 


	18. Unwrapped

Chapter 18: Unwrapped

Disclaimer: No, Alias does not belong to me. But I promise my ideas are, to my knowledge, original.

* * *

Sark flew by himself to hunt up Dr. Eugene Reeves. The flight was quick; he was in Geneva by nightfall in LA. It was early morning in Geneva. A few hours before most places opened. 

But Eugene Reeves was dedicated to his practice. He would be in his office an hour, may be more, before his door opened.

Sark was right. He was sitting at Reeves' desk in the dark when the man walked in at ten till eight. The light flooded the room, punctuated by the click of the light switch, and Sark leaned back and stared at the doctor.

Eugene Reeves looked, blinked, and looked again. While a brilliant man academically, and an excellent doctor, the man had a very low level of awareness of his fellow man. Sark probably could have stood in a dark corner instead of sitting garishly in the man's desk chair and never bee noticed.

"What do you want?" Reeves asked, none of the fear he felt reflected in his strong voice. "I told you I wasn't doing any more."

Sark sat silently and, after a few beats, nodded to the still open door.

"I upheld my end of the bargain, you paid me. We have no further agreement," Reeves asserted as he closed the door and shrugged out of his jacket.

"I want to see the file," Sark said simply. Then he waived his hand at the filing cabinets lining the wall. "Get it."

Frowning and throwing Sark a look that was far from subservient, Reeves complied. He produced a key, opened the third drawer decisively, and thumbed through the back few files. Then he stilled.

"It doesn't seem to be here."

"Do you frequently lose files on your patients, doctor?" Sark asked, and Reeves was surprised to find him barely a foot away.

"No," Reeves said defiantly.

"Well, that's all right," Sark said, a deceiving smile on his face. "You can just tell me what was in this one." There was a short pause, and Sark continued in a congenial voice. "All about how you lied to me, how you deceived me into believing she was mine, the one I wanted." His voice grew dangerous. "How you caused me to waste three years and more of my life on a child that did not fulfill the Rambaldi prophecy I set out to achieve…"

"Rambaldi?" Reeves asked, panicked now. "What the…wait…you…"

Out of thin air, it seemed, Sark produced a handgun with a silencer on it and put a bullet in Reeves. The man sank to the floor, a shocked expression on his face. He pressed a hand to his stomach and seemed confused when his fingers came away sticky with his own blood. He looked from the blood to Sark, his eyes growing dimmer.

"Good day, doctor," Sark said, looking down on Reeves' bleeding form. Then he walked out.

* * *

The usual group was back in the conference room, plus the DSR trio. Jack had, at Vaughn's suggestion, been included to ensure he was nearby for his arrest later. 

"Dr. Eugene Reeves," Dixon said, pressing a button so that a picture of a smiling man appeared on the screen. He watched the faces of his agents. "He was murdered in his office last night."

Dixon saw Sydney's eyes brighten a little, but she showed no real reaction.

"Reeves practiced _in vitro _fertilization, and was doing research in embryo transfer--transferring an embryo from one mother to another."

Jack began to look a little unsure, but he kept still about it.

"I find it to be hardly a coincidence that only hours before, we acquired a file from Reeves. The file outlines an execution of an experimental procedure, unknown to the person who commissioned the project. It was supposed to be a simple, commonplace procedure, but for some reason the doctor told his employer otherwise.

"We have," he continued. "Incontrovertible proof that this experiment resulted in Kelly. We know who commissioned the project, and who paid the doctor over two million dollars for his--shall we say discretion--in the matter. We know the name Sark's informant gave himself. We know that informant is obsessed with Rambaldi. We know he gave Sark false information about an unknown prophecy to further his own agenda. We know he had intimate control over key players in the prophecy."

Dixon stopped. He pressed another button, and the image on the screen disappeared, focusing all attentions on him.

"We also know that the informant in one of our own."

A roar of voices filled the room, there were so many who'd been kept out of the loop. Several stood. Jack was one of them. When Jack began to move toward the door, Dixon nodded to Harte and Quentin, and they intercepted him and cuffed him.

The roar only grew louder. Everyone was shouting now, may be a dozen agents. Only Sydney and Vaughn remained quiet and seated, while Dixon and Kendall stood calmly awaiting a recession in the noise level. Harte and Quentin eased out of the room to put Jack in his own soundproof cell.

Dixon finally tired of the noise.

"QUIET!" he bellowed.

As everyone else sat down, Sydney stood. Dixon nodded to her to go ahead; he wasn't looking forward to facing this group.

"We've suspected for weeks now that we had a mole," she said. "The most efficient way to identify a mole is to limit the information eh can get a hold of. That's all Director Dixon did, and, as you can see, we caught our mole."

"Sydney, this is your father!" Weiss spoke up loudly. A murmur of agreement rippled through the still restless government employees. "As many times as you've defended him, how…"

"Every time I have defended him, he helped. He may have been furthering his own agenda, and his actions may have been immoral, but they got the job done. This is different. This time he stooped to kidnapping, consorting with criminals to the detriment of this agency, and plotting the abduction of an agent."

Everyone fell quiet. If Sydney would denounce her father, who were they to argue?

"Most of you would have access to the information eventually," Dixon said. "But it's best to get it out of the way now. Kelly is Agent Bristow's child. Hers and Agent Vaughn's. Anyone asks how, I'll lock you up for stupidity and indelicacy. All you need to know is that Kelly was born as a result of Reeves' illegal medical experiment. That is _all_ anyone needs to know," he stressed. "Jack was feeding Sark information, basically provoking him to go after Sydney and Kelly. He is believed to have had access to a Rambaldi prophecy no one else has seen."

* * *

Jack sat alone in the cold, hard cell, thinking. He'd reacted too fast. He should have sat it out a little longer, found out exactly what they knew. He hadn't known the doctor's name, but Sark should haves checked up on the man more closely. The doctor was dead now. 

He could play it off now, get a spot in a high security mental hospital. Hell, if they decided to interrogate him, in Camp Harris may be, he might just _earn_ that spot.

Jack stared intently at the wall. The less conscious he seemed now, the better. May be the psychologists would conclude he had cracked when he'd been arrested and insist he was…

"You son of a bitch," Sydney's voice broke into his thoughts. He hadn't heard her enter the cell. That was new.

Jack carefully didn't look at her. The brick wall was really interesting, if you looked at it long enough.

"Don't pretend you don't hear me! I know damn well that you're as lucid as me! _LOOK AT ME GOD DAMN IT!"_

Jack continued to stare at the wall. Look, you could see designs…a spider's web…now a little bird…look, faces…

Thwap.

Jack looked up in surprise at a furious, wild-eyed Sydney. When had she moved? He felt vaguely as if he was encased in wool, kept away from the world. He--wait, she was talking. What was she saying? He could barely hear her.

"…daughter! Where the hell is that prophecy?!?"

Burned it, he thought triumphantly.

"Burned it! Dammit!" Sydney raved, pacing back and forth furiously.

Had he spoken aloud?

Sydney took one look at him, blew out a furious breath, and shouted to someone to let her out.

Sydney stormed up the hall, pausing only briefly to wait for the heavy iron barred doors to open. She exploded into the guards' station, where Vaughn and Kelly waited. Irina was accounted for by a one-way radio the size of a cell phone.

"I'm beginning to think he's really crazy! Really honest to God _crazy_!" she yelled. "He _told_ me he _burned_ the prophecy! How can I protect my daughter when I don't know…"

"_Our _daughter," Vaughn broke in firmly, puling Kelly close to his side with his arm around her. "_We'll_ protect _our_ daughter."

All the anger and frustration drained out of her, and all Sydney could feel was love. Her love for the two people before her, and their love. She relaxed and smiled softly.

"I know. Let's go home," she said, hugging them both. "It's just that it's been two weeks, and this is the first time he's said anything. And he looked surprised that he'd said it." She shook her head. "It was a sham at first, no doubt. But I think he'd driving himself crazy."

"Come on, baby," Vaughn said gently. "Don't think about it. Dixon promised to have him transferred by Monday. Kelly doesn't need to be here, anyway. Let's go home, so I can enjoy my weekend with my girls."

"When we get home, can we play a game?" Kelly asked, tugging on her parents' hands.

"Sure, sweetie," Sydney said.

"What do you want to play?" Vaughn asked.

Kelly skipped along thoughtfully for a moment.

"Hide and go seek!" she bubbled finally, a wide smile on her face.

Vaughn rolled his eyes, and Sydney laughed. It had been his idea to teach her that game because _he_ was tired of unpacking. Who knew they had so much stuff? There were still unpacked boxes in every room of their new house. Plus all the wedding gifts their friends had given them, plus stuff they'd given Kelly…hell, half of _that_ was still unwrapped!

Kelly was going to be okay, though. They'd all three gone to a renowned child psychologist earlier that day, and the woman had assured them that as long as Sydney and Vaughn had time to make her feel wanted and part of a family, Kelly had every chance of growing up to be a completely normal adult.

And, Sydney thought with a smile, _Vaughn and I have more than enough love to go around._

, Sydney thought with a smile, 

They were finally together.

* * *

I didn't use that last line on my rough draft, but I had to add it. The next to the last line just didn't wrap it all up nice and neat. And that's all, folks! What did you think? I kinda like the Jack's-insane touch myself. His hard-ass-I-do-what-I-want routine would get to him eventually, anyway…this is even better, in my opinion, than shooting him! 


End file.
